Ethan Donovan stepped off of the plane in Cardiff, nervous and unsure. After collecting his bags, he walked into the greeting area. Donovan immediately recognised Ianto Jones dressed, as always, in a sharp suit.
"Director Donovan, I'm Ianto Jones. It's good to see you again. Welcome to Cardiff," he said.
"Mr. Jones, I remember you from the annual UNIT conferences," Donovan said, shaking the Welshman's hand. "And, please, we're going to be working together for a while. It's Ethan."
"Ianto," he said with a smile, gesturing at the door. When he let go of Donovan's hand, he took one of the cases from him. "This way, please. Captain Harkness and Doctor Ryan send their regrets that one of them wasn't able to meet you. They've been… detained."
Donovan nodded and followed Ianto out into the car park. He got into the small blue Audi after he helped heave his cases into the boot.
"This is my first time in Wales," Donovan said, trying to make small talk.
"My country is a beautiful place. I hope you get to see some of it while you're here. We'd all enjoy showing it to you," Ianto said, with pride. He drove towards the Plass. He could have taken Donovan into the Hub through its garage or the Tourist Office but there was no better way to introduce someone to Torchwood than the invisible lift. Jack hadn't said to use it but Jack did like to show off. Ianto parked his car and helped Donovan wheel the cases towards the water tower.
"Right. Here we are," Ianto said, as he heaved the case up onto the paving stone. He smiled fondly at Donovan, looking up to read the Welsh on the Millennium Centre. "Ethan, if you please?"
Donovan looked around, confused. "Sorry?"
"This paving stone. Step up please," Ianto said, thoroughly enjoying himself. He stepped up onto the stone, keeping his arm on Donovan's coat sleeve so as to muddle the perception filter. "If you wouldn't mind keeping your arms tucked in and, don't move."
Donovan stepped up onto the stone and turned around to stand next to Ianto. "What do you mean? Don't-"
Ethan Donovan let out a decidedly feminine shriek as the lift began to descend. He grabbed hold of Ianto's arm and turned his around every which way. He felt like a kid on a terrific adventure without enough eyes to see everything. He couldn't swivel his head fast enough to keep track of it all but he obeyed Ianto's order to remain still otherwise, especially after he'd seen how long a way down it was. Once the paving stone reached the bottom, Donovan stepped off and immediately began turning in place staring upwards. He was still trying to process everything when a small Asian woman walked over to him. She was wearing a pair of scrubs and her long hair was tied back in a loose ponytail.
"Director Donovaon? I'm Miranda Ryan. It's good to finally put a face to the name," she said, cheerfully, holding out her hand to him.
He raised his eyebrow. Unlike Ianto, Donovan had not met Miranda before. He'd heard the Irish lilt of Miranda Ryan over the phone but the face was not what he expected. Donovan had been expecting a woman closer to his own age, perhaps in her forties or, at the least, mid to late thirties. This woman looked far too young to be a practicing doctor let alone second in command of an organisation like Torchwood. If he had to venture a guess, Miranda appeared to be barely out of her twenties, a stunning beauty. Ah… if I were twenty years younger…
"Don't worry about it, Doctor Ryan. And please, it's Ethan," Donovan said. He shook Miranda's hand.
"Miranda. My apologies that I nor Captain Harkness was able to meet you at the airport ourselves," she said with a warm smile.
He noted blood crusted into her hair and a smear on her neck. "Are you all right?" he asked with concern.
She raised her hand to her neck. "Nothing serious. I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. Ifan? I'm going to get cleaned up. Would you mind showing our guest to one of the staterooms please? Perhaps the five pence tour? Once you're settled in, Ethan, we'll begin moving you through the basics."
"Can't wait," Donovan said with a touch of feigned enthusiasm.
This trip was bittersweet for him. Everything had worked out from a professional standpoint. Personally, it had been another matter. One month after Joseph Fischer had walked through the doors of the MiB Field Office Ten in Seattle, Donovan had promoted the head of Field Office Two in New York to deputy director and left him in charge. Two months after that, Donovan had boarded his plane to Wales, only two days after finalising his divorce. A screeching sound reached his ears and Donovan lifted his head to see… a pterodactyl?!… flying high above him. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? Donovan wondered.
"This way, Ethan," Ianto said cheerfully. "This is the north stairs. It leads to, not surprisingly, the north sub-basement."
Donovan followed him. At the t-junction, Ianto stopped and waved to their left.
"That way is the gyms, the firing range and locker room," Ianto said and then waved to his right. "This way is the staterooms."
As they passed a door on their right, Ianto said, "These are Mandy's rooms."
"She lives here?" Donovan asked, surprised.
"Jack and I do as well," Ianto said, brightly. "So, don't worry, you won't be alone with Myfanwy at night."
"Myfanwy?"
"The pterodactyl," Ianto said as he opened the door at the end of the hallway. "We're going down one level."
Donovan continued to follow Ianto marveling at the size of the place. He could have sworn he saw two or three other hallways leading off of the main Hub. He followed Ianto through the door one level down and Ianto waved his hand in front of him.
"These are what we all affectionately call 'the staterooms'. They're our guest quarters. We do, on extremely rare occasion, host alien diplomats or heads of state. Mostly they're vacant, but we do use them for a quick kip now and again," Ianto said. He led Donovan to the first door on their left. He opened it and turned on the light. "You can have whichever one you want. They're all the same."
"This one's fine," Donovan said with a shrug.
"The fourth door on either side is the loo… sorry, bathroom. At the end of the hall is the laundry. There's also a cupboard in the laundry room with fresh linens."
Ianto heaved Donovan's case up onto the bed and said, "Take all the time you need. Come upstairs when you're finished. I'll leave you to it."
"Thanks, Ianto," Donovan said.
Ianto politely shut the door behind him, leaving Donovan alone. He looked around the spartan room and sighed. He opened up his cases and started unpacking his clothes, putting things away. Once he was finished, he sat down at the small table on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. He wiggled the fingers on his left hand, the absent wedding ring still felt strange.
The day after Donovan had told his wife, Heather, about this trip, she'd calmly asked for a divorce. She told him that she'd met someone and was ready to move on. He'd known about this other man for years and had looked the other way. The same way that Heather had looked the other way with his affairs. They hadn't been together as husband and wife in… well Donovan couldn't remember. Perhaps it had been their last attempt to mend their relationship, before their third and unexpected child was born.
The reasons were obvious and this trip wasn't the proverbial straw on a camel's back. The two things had just happened to coincide. He'd always been more career focused. Heather had never understood that her husband's work kept her and their children safe. Their youngest child was in college and their other children were living out on their own. The nest was empty. She'd been staying for their children. The divorce was only something to formalise what they'd both known for a long time, that their marriage was over. He hadn't been surprised at all. Well that wasn't entirely true. What had surprised him was that Heather hadn't left him sooner. He hadn't argued. He hadn't suggested counseling. He'd just nodded at her. He'd even helped her to pack her things so she could move in with what's his name and wished her well. Their assets were divided without question. Their house was to be sold. The whole thing had been so very civil.
Donovan let out a low sigh. His job was all he had left now. Bitterly, he realised that it was all he had ever had. He'd worked and traveled so much that his wife and children had become strangers to him. Sadly, Donovan realised it had been a year since he'd spoken with his older children. He hadn't spoken with his youngest since he and his ex-wife had dropped her off at Georgetown over a month ago. He ran his hands through his hair again and then decided to head back upstairs. He looked around the room again and vowed to give his time here every ounce of what he had. Ianto was waiting by the staircase.
"All settled in? Right. This way," he said, brightly. Ianto pointed as they walked through the main Hub. "The catwalk to Myfanwy's nest is that way. The hothouse is that way - alien plants and the like. Autopsy bay and the stairs down to the morgue are there. The east stairs down to the cells and the archives. Kitchen - don't ever touch the coffee machine. Jack's office - always knock. And the boardroom is off this way. The hallway to the interrogation rooms is that way. Garage is that way - feel free to use my car while you're here as long as you remember what side of the bloody road you're to be driving on."
Donovan was already starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by the time he stepped into the boardroom. The rest of the Torchwood team was already there, waiting for him.
"I'm Gwen. Good to meet you," the gap toothed woman said. Donovan returned her broad smile, shaking her hand.
"Ethan. Good to meet you too," Donovan said.
"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack said as he stepped forward with his own hand extended.
"Ethan," Donovan said. "I've heard a lot about you, Captain Harkness. I want to thank you for this opportunity and-"
"Stowe it," Jack said, tersely. "And it's Jack. You've already met Fish. Have a seat."
Jack's abruptness caught him off guard but Donovan took the only seat available to him on Miranda's right. Jack leaned forward and nodded at Ianto who placed a small stack of papers in front of Donovan along with a pen.
"Before we get down to business, Ethan, we just need your John Hancock on that," he said.
"What is it?" Donovan asked, sliding the papers closer. He took out his reading glasses.
"It's a legal document from your government," Miranda said, swiveling in her chair. "It states that should any of Torchwood's technologies or secrets end up in the hands of MiB or any other agency as a result of your involvement here, you will be tried by your government for treason, the penalty for which is-"
"Death," Donovan said. He started flipping through the document. "This is hardly necessary."
"It is. Jack and I work very hard to keep the secrets of Torchwood and we will continue to do so."
"Your confidence is overwhelming," Donovan said sarcastically.
"It has nothing to do with trusting you," Jack interjected.
"We're just covering our arses," Miranda added.
"And if I don't sign?" Donovan asked.
"Then Ianto will drive you back to the airport," Jack informed him, "with our apologies that you came all this way for nothing."
Donovan picked up the pen and signed his name. "Satisfied?"
"Yes," Miranda said. She turned the papers over to Ianto. "You see, we are not necessarily afraid of you nicking something from the archives. What do you know about Captain Harkness?"
"The same thing everyone else does," Donovan said, side stepping the question.
Jack cleared his throat and said, "You can speak freely here."
Donovan let his gaze wander to each of the Torchwood team. They were all staring him down and he couldn't put his finger on why but Miranda's gaze made him the most nervous and the one he could tolerate the least. Her eyes pierced him like laser beams. He shifted a little nervously but he didn't come here to walk on egg shells. "The rumor is that you're immortal."
Miranda bent down and removed the dagger from her boot. The movement caused Donovan to switch his gaze. He tried not to appear startled by the weapon.
"The rumors you've heard are correct, Ethan," Miranda said, simply. "We neither confirm nor deny them to those outside of Torchwood-"
"Not that anyone would fucking dare ask…" Donovan muttered under his breath as Miranda continued to speak.
"-but Jack's unique nature is accepted as an oddity, a fluke."
Donovan had to keep himself from leaping out of his chair to stop her when she dragged the point of the dagger across her forearm. The gash was deep and long. With a handkerchief, she swiped the blood away and Donovan watched on in astonishment as the cut sealed itself as if it had never been.
"One immortal being is easily dismissed. Two could be seen as… a repeatable phenomenon," she said.
"Jesus… What happened to you?" Donovan asked without thinking.
"Neither here nor there," she said. After replacing the dagger in her boot, she steepled her fingers in front of her face. "Jack and I debated for a long time whether or not to tell you given the fact that you're only here for a short while."
"But we didn't want you finding out the hard way," Jack said.
Fish leaned forward and said, "Saying that Jack and Evie are immortal isn't entirely accurate. They're more… eternally resurrecting."
"Eternally… resurrecting…" Donovan said the words and then trailed off, confused. As if a fucking pterodactyl wasn't enough?
"If wounded severely enough, we can die," Miranda said. "The severity of the wounds depends on how long it takes for us to revive."
"Is there something that will kill you permanently?" Donovan asked, astonished.
"Neither here nor there," she said, dismissively. Donovan felt his foot in his mouth, realising he'd suddenly asked something very private. "This is the greatest of Torchwood's secrets. It belongs not just to Torchwood but to Jack and I personally."
Donovan nodded, understanding the seriousness and gravity of his situation. "You can trust me, Miranda."
"I trust no one," Miranda said. She added a hollow chill to her voice that raised gooseflesh across Donovan's arms. "I warn you that should you reveal this secret to anyone in any way… when I am finished with you there will be nothing left for your government to try or execute."
Donovan swallowed. He had no doubt that Miranda would make good on her threat.
"Will…" Jack warned.
Miranda only glared at Jack in response. "We want no confusion in the chain of command here, Ethan. You may be head of Men in Black but you are at the bottom of our totem pole."
"I understand," Donovan said.
"Good. Now that you know the truth, we come to rule number one. There are no heroics with regards to Jack or myself. Ever. You are to never step between us and danger. If either of us is injured, no matter how severe, you are to abandon us and continue. Are we clear?"
"Crystal," Donovan said.
"Jack and I use our immortality to strategic advantage when ever and where ever we can," Miranda added.
"Rule number two," Jack said. "Will and I take the risks. We always take point, no exceptions. We go out on every field call, no exceptions. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Donovan said. There was an uncomfortable rustling around the table.
Miranda leaned towards Donovan and said, "No one calls Jack that but Ianto. Ever. Don't do it again."
Donovan cast Ianto a look of apology.
"Ianto? Let's go over the rest of our basic protocols," Jack said.
Ianto cleared his throat and stood up, launching into his presentation. It took him nearly an hour to go over Torchwood's basic protocols and procedures. When he was done, Donovan felt more than overwhelmed, he felt completely in over his head.
"We don't expect you to know everything tomorrow. There's a lot to learn and we'll all help you out. Will?"
"I'll see you in the autopsy bay for a full physical, Ethan," Miranda said. She gave Donovan a friendly smile and a nod then got up from her chair. She took a deep breath as she gathered her supplies. Miranda could hear the click of dress shoes on the autopsy bay stairs but they lacked Ianto's distinctive cadence.
"Everything off and put this on please," Miranda said, tossing him a gown. She turned politely turning away, pretending to review his medical records.
Nervously, Donovan began shedding his suit. He laid it carefully over Miranda's desk chair. He put on the gown and tied it shut, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"You want me up on this table?" Donovan asked.
"Please," she said. Miranda raised her basic scanner, a small metallic looking cylinder. She ran it over Donovan's chest. "I hope you brought other clothes with you, Ethan. Working for Torchwood in a suit is inadvisable unless your name is Ianto Jones."
"It was only for the plane," Donovan said as he hopped up onto the autopsy table.
Miranda gave him a friendly smile and said, "You hoped to impress us on your first day?"
Donovan blushed a bit.
"What's that?" he asked, looking down at the small torch-like device.
"It takes basic vital signs… temperature, heart rate, respiration, diastolic and systolic blood pressure, oxygen saturation…" Miranda said as she wrote down the results on her paper. "Your blood pressure is higher than I would like it."
"I know. I'm on medication," Donovan said with a grimace.
Miranda opened Donovan's medical records sent to her from MiB. "Metprolol… You're on a fairly low dosage. Do you get headaches?"
"Sometimes, nothing I'd take anything for," Donovan said.
"Lay back, please," Miranda said, gesturing at the table.
Attempting to maintain his dignity, Donovan laid back on the table. He swallowed, more nervous. The autopsy bay doubled as the medical lab. He was laying on the autopsy table. Donovan tried to push that thought out of his mind.
He lifted his head, curious as Miranda began scanning him with a strange looking device. She tilted her head and said, "You have a fully remodeled fracture or your right tibia. It's very old…"
"Fell off a jungle gym when I was a kid," Donovan said.
She only nodded in acknowledgement of the explanation and then continued to run the scanner up his body.
"Your knees are in fairly good shape for a man your age…" Donovan swallowed when she reached his groin. She moved the scanner upwards and said, "Have you been having any abdominal pain, Ethan?"
"Just indigestion," Donovan insisted.
"You have choleoliths - gall stones," she said. "Not many, if you mind your diet there should be no need for surgery as of yet. When you return to American you should consult a gastroenterologist."
"What the hell is that thing?" Donovan asked.
"This is a Bekaran deep tissue scanner. It's like a portable MRI," Miranda said continuing to move the device along his body. "You have four remodeled fractures to your ribs on the right side. You have a previously dislocated right shoulder… remodeled fracture of the right clavicle…"
"Yeah I was in a pretty bad car wreck back in my twenties," he said.
She nodded. "Were you a smoker, Ethan?"
Donovan nodded. "I quit about ten years ago."
"The damage to your lungs has mostly healed," she said. "There's no evidence of smoking related illness. You may get winded easier than some… Everything else appears normal. You can sit up."
Miranda gave him a small smile. "Your arm please. I'm afraid we don't have a fancy piece of technology for this. We do it the old fashioned way."
She tied the tourniquet around Donovan's arm.
"No gloves?" Donovan noted.
"My immortality protects me from disease. I'm incapable of contracting or transmitting infection but if it makes you feel better," Miranda said as she put down the syringe. She was about to turn towards the gloves when Donovan stopped her.
"Nah, it's fine, was just curious if immortals get sick," he said with a laugh. He had a million questions but didn't feel it was his place to ask.
"No, Jack and I don't get sick. We neither carry nor contract illness," Miranda said, smiling politely. She returned to drawing the blood tubes. Noticing his curiosity, she said, "You may ask what you like, Ethan. I don't promise to provide you with answers. And since I already know what your next question will be, no I will not tell you how old I am. You should know better than to ask a lady her age."
"Something tells me you're no lady," Donovan said with a laugh.
Miranda's eyes twinkled at him.
He had a million questions bubbling in his mind. Many of them highly personal or nosy but a few small ones came to mind.
"Why does Jack call you Will?" he asked.
"When Jack and I met, I was using the name Wilhelmina. He's always called me Will."
"When was that?" Donovan asked.
She paused and for a minute, Donovan thought she wasn't going to tell him but she said, matter-of-factly, "1919."
"That was nearly a hundred years ago!" Donovan exclaimed. "You don't look a day over twenty five!"
"Such flattery will get you no where, Ethan," Miranda teased. She withdrew the needle from Donovan's arm and set the tubes aside. "I'll have the results in a few hours. Jack is waiting for you down in the firing range. We need to evaluate your field capabilities. When you're done with Jack, you'll be in the gym with me next."
"The gym? What for?" Donovan asked.
"Hand to hand combat," Miranda said. "You can get dressed, Ethan."
Just as Donovan was putting his trousers on, the rift alert went off. Miranda looked up. Just as she was about to leave the room, Ianto leaned over the autopsy bay railing.
"It's a small spike, Mandy."
"Where?"
"Narrowing it now, Evie," Fish called from the main Hub. "Up by the Red Dragon Center. Looks like it may be the car park."
Miranda nodded and smiled at Donovan who was still doing up his trousers. "Shall we jump in with both feet then?"
"Locals are evacuating the car park and blocking it off right now," Gwen shouted. "You want me to come with you?"
Miranda shook her head. "No, we'll be fine, Gwen."
Donovan continued to dress as quickly as he could. He furrowed his brow curiously when he saw Miranda pick up a sheathed sword off of her desk. There was a dark green tassel hanging off the end. It looked like it belonged in a museum. He decided not to ask as he watched Miranda put the sword into her thin trench coat, concealing it within a flap on the right side. He decided to leave his suit jacket and tie behind. Ianto had a tray of items in his hand.
"These are for you Ethan. From your left to right, one standard issue Torchwood sidearm, one PDA and a comm unit."
Donovan picked the items up and put them into his pockets. "Thanks, Ianto."
"Good luck," Ianto said with a wink.
Donovan followed Miranda down the hallway that led to the Hub's garage. She held out the keys to him.
"Want to drive?" she asked, playfully.
He shook his head. "Maybe another time when it's not an emergency and I know where I'm going."
Miranda laughed. "It's really not that difficult, Ethan."
He moved to the wrong side of the car and had to stop himself. "I can't even get on the right side of the car yet…"
"It'll come to you," Miranda said with a smile. She got behind the wheel and started for the Red Dragon Center.
She took the drive slower than Jack would have, mindful of her passenger.
"Normally, Jack and I would have evaluated you before allowing you out into the field," Miranda told him as she drove. She started to dig in the pocket of her coat. "I am trusting that you can shoot properly and can defend yourself."
"I brushed up on my marksmanship and hand to hand before I left the States but I'm not as young as I used to be," Donovan said, regretfully.
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Your career with the CIA and the NSA has been distinguished," Miranda said.
"Read my dossier huh?"
"I needed to make sure that you wouldn't come all the way to Cardiff just to end up getting yourself killed," she said, simply.
"I was an analyst," Donovan replied.
"Doctor Fischer was once a chemical engineer. Ianto Jones was an office worker," Miranda said. "We are not what we do."
Just as she pulled into the car park, Miranda turned to him and said, "Ianto gave you one of our PDA's. It's basically an iPhone with some modifications. There's an icon on the screen marked 'RSA'. Press it. It'll narrow the rift spike area down to within a meter."
Donovan stared down at the device. The screen was black. He chose a button on the side at random and the PDA sprang to life. He saw a number of different icons. He hit the appropriate one. He'd ask about the others later. He examined the display.
"The red dot is our objective," Miranda said. The local police didn't even blink as they moved the barricade aside for the Torchwood SUV. Miranda pulled into the garage and parked. She leaned to look at the display and Donovan got a strong whiff of her perfume. Jasmine?
Donovan backed away from her intrusion into his space and swallowed. Miranda raised an eyebrow at him and backed away. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I'm making you uncomfortable?"
He cleared his throat. "No… yes."
"My apologies," she said and leaned away. She holdout her hand for the PDA. He passed it to her and she tilted the display. "It works just like any touch screen. By pinching and turning the fingers, like so, you can obtain a three dimensional rendering of where the spike originated. Note that I say the spike. We have no idea if something has fallen through or not. The size of the spike does not necessarily correlate to whether or not something has fallen through only to the size of what can possibly fall through. A large object cannot come through a small spike but a small object an pass through a large spike. The size of the spike is also not relative to the amount of danger. A small spike can be just as dangerous as a large one. Do you understand?"
Donovan nodded. It seemed to make sense. Miranda got out of the SUV and Donovan followed her. They examined the PDA screen and Miranda said, "Which way, Ethan?"
"That way, down one level," Donovan said as he adjusted the image.
"Very good," she praised and took off in a run.
Donovan swore under his breath and ran off after her. Shit, she's fast… He'd fallen significantly behind her. When he reached the bottom of the staircase, panting, Miranda was leaning against the doorway grinning at him.
"Not bad," she said. She pushed off the concrete and started to walk slowly, glancing down at the PDA. "Stay behind me, Ethan."
Donovan wasn't going to argue with her. Especially when the crushed car came into view. A rectangular box on the roof of the sedan had caved in the entire roof just over the driver's side. The windscreen was smashed an all the windows were broken. If someone had been in the vehicle, they'd be dead. The damage was more than Donovan would have thought the small box should have caused.
"Jesus…" he whispered.
He watched on as Miranda stepped towards the box, holding out her PDA, scanning the item. She looked up and shouted, "Ethan! I need you to step back towards the doorway!"
"Why? What's wrong?" he called out, taking a tentative step towards her. He froze when he saw the diagonal mauve stripes painted onto the lid. He quickly backed away.
Miranda slowly stepped away from the box back towards him. She handed him the keys to the SUV. "It's a munitions box. One falls through the rift about once a year. Jack thinks there's an active rift on their planet of origin. Get one of the containment boxes out of the back of the SUV."
Donovan reached up for the keys when they both heard a low growl, like an animal. Miranda froze.
"Did you-"
"SHH!" she hissed, whirling. "Something else may have come through…"
To his surprise, Donovan saw Miranda draw her sword instead of her gun. He drew his own gun and pulled back on the slide. The two of them were still and silent. The only sound was that of the rest of the city. Miranda took a few steps back into the middle of the car park. She cocked her head, listening.
Donovan took a few tentative steps in her direction, circling around, looking for the threat. He heard it again, a low growl. Whirling, he raised his weapon in the direction of the sound and that was when he saw his first Weevil. It was crouched behind the car on the other side of the car park. The crushed car was between them. Its claws were hooked around the bonnet. Is it wearing a jumpsuit?! The Weevil stood up and snarled. Reacting on instinct and fear, Donovan fired… and missed.
"NO!" Miranda shouted.
The bullet ricocheted off the concrete and impacted a tire on the car supporting the munitions box. The shift in the car caused the box to tip and the lid fell off. Miranda saw several round spheres fall out onto the dented car roof… spherse with mauve circles painted on them. Pyraxian grenades! She noted the distinct lack of stasis locks. The small square locks should be attached to the surface with a blinking mauve light. The jostling movement likely armed them. She didn't have long before they exploded.
The frightened Weevil howled and ran straight for Donovan. Miranda ran as fast as she could in pursuit. She leapt up, sliding on her hip across the bonnet of a car and continued running. This alien thing was barreling towards him, snarling and growling and Donovan froze.
"ETHAN!" Miranda cried.
Donovan snapped out of his daze. He misinterpreted her warning and began to fire at the Weevil wildly, several bullets hitting their target. She'd meant for him to take cover, not open fire!
"NO!" she screamed but it was too late, the grenades exploded and a massive fireball engulfed the car. The concussion wave flung Miranda between a pair of parked cars. Once the car's petrol tank reacted, it too, exploded causing another fireball. Car alarms began to honk and beep.
He barely managed to duck behind one of the other cars in time. The shockwave from the blast caused the car windows to shatter, raining broken glass down on his head. Miranda…
Donovan got to his feet and ran back towards the still burning car. Huge columns of jet black smoke billowed upwards. The stench of burning plastic and petrol hung thick. Donovan coughed as he shouted, "Miranda! MIRANDA!"
He looked back and forth and the only thing he saw was the charred body of the dead Weevil, killed in the blast. A few moments later, Miranda stood up from between two cars. Her face was stained with soot and there was glass in her hair. There was blood dripping down her face that looked to be coming from one of her ears. There was also blood trickling down her arm, dripping on the floor. Donovan ran over to her.
"Miranda? Are you okay?" he asked, trying to examine her wounds.
She fisted his shirt in her good hand and slammed him into a nearby car. Her strength completely caught him off guard. "You discharged your weapon near a munitions box! You are lucky it was nothing more than a few Pyraxian grenades! If there had been a Eudicite detonator, you could have sent half the city to kingdom come! Zasyadian explosives would have created a poison gas cloud that could have killed millions! Need I continue? Your American style of shoot first, shoot some more and then try to ask a fucking question will not work here!"
Donovan felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. The Irish accent had vanished, replaced with one that he couldn't place. The cadence of her voice was also off, almost archaic.
Miranda let go of his shirt and stepped back. "You will learn prudence."
Thoroughly chastised, Donovan looked Miranda in the eye and asked, "Orders?"
"Coordinate with the local fire wardens to get this put out," she said. She closed her eyes and then inhaled sharply. Donovan watched as she rolled her shoulders and exhaled slowly. It was like someone had flipped a switch. She exhaled, the anger draining out of her features, replaced with calm. As she dealt with the Weevil's body, Donovan headed for the staircase to carry out her orders. Christ, I'm royally screwing this up…