Torchwood LA: Retcon

Chapter 1: Cold Open

Doot…deet…doot…deet…

Previously, in the Torchwood Seven universe…

GWEN COOPER

"Gwen Cooper," said the woman, offering her hand. "I'm with Torchwood."

"I myself was the junior member of Torchwood Three…I am in Los Angeles, having been invited by your government to set up a Torchwood office…"

Gwen looked at Jack…"My boss in Cardiff was a superior leader," she said. "Everything I know about Torchwood I learned from him. However, his strategy for personnel recruitment left a lot to be desired…I intend to change that. I want the best…"

JACK BAUER

Kim looked over at her dad…"So, you're a man in black now?"

"Jack Bauer. Formerly commander of CTU Los Angeles"…She closed the folder and put it back in the case. "Yes, you'll do," she said.

"And the government is okay with me being your second in command?"…"They wanted an American," shrugged Gwen.

CELL 114

Bauer opened the folder and saw photographs of bodies…"This is the Ottawa bombing, isn't it?"

"They're called Cell 114…Sleeper cells, specializing in infiltration, disruption, and sabotage."…"Muslim extremists?" asked Jack…"No. Not Muslims," said Gwen, shaking her head.

"If you were 114, the needle would never have been able to penetrate your skin…The 114 do not get sick, they do not get minor injuries such as cuts and bruises, and they do not go to hospitals or doctors' offices. And that's another way we can spot them."

TORCHWOOD SEVEN

"Welcome to Torchwood Seven."

"Jack, Lois Habiba. Lois, Jack Bauer."

"Are you even a doctor? Because you sure as hell don't sound like one."…"She's not," said House. "But I am."

"His name is Adam Mitchell," said Ryan…"He claims to have worked for Henry Van Statten at his compound in Utah."

Jack, here's two more of your team. Jack Bauer, meet Roy Caftan…our resident computer expert and acting science chief… And this, of course, is Major Ken Ryan, our head of security."

Jack looked over to Caftan's body…Ryan was kneeling and checking for a pulse. He looked up at Jack and shook his head.

Barin shot three of his own bullets into Ryan…Ryan never had a chance, and he was dead before he hit the ground.

"Our head technology person is currently on loan to Torchwood Six, helping them sort through the wreckage of a crashed alien ship," Gwen explained almost apologetically. "She should be back, what, Friday?"

The following takes place twenty-one months after the events of 24: Day Eight and fifteen months after day five of Torchwood: Children of Earth. Events occur in an alternate continuity which does not include Torchwood: Miracle Day or 24: Live Another Day.

All characters are the property of their respective authors. All original characters and events which occur in this story are mine.

The hood over her head wasn't totally opaque, so she could tell that they had just moved her inside. She felt the air conditioning, a welcome change from the stifling outdoor weather. And she heard the click of a light switch as her captors frog-marched her through at least one room before coming to a stop. Roughly, they spun her around and forced her to sit against the base of a wall, the plastic ties on her wrists preventing her from reaching back and arresting her descent.

Before she could grunt in pain, the hood was off. Long, reddish blonde hair spilled out as she gulped in a deep breath. She was sitting in a stone floored room against a cinderblock wall; she could now feel the coolness of the floor begin to seep through her jeans. The room was barren except for an empty wooden cable spool in the center and a bare bulb fixture hanging down from the ten-foot ceiling.

"Are you thirsty?" She recognized the man who spoke. It was one of her abductors: the one who had called himself "Jim Ricker." He had dark hair and a permanent squint, and he was squatting down at her side to hand her one of those water bottles with the squirt cap.

She turned her head away. She had read somewhere – or maybe she had seen it on TV – an account about a kidnapping victim whose life had been spared by his captors because he had made a conspicuous effort to not look at their faces. She knew it was pointless, having already seen them at the café, but maybe if she tried now it would make a difference.

It didn't. "Hey!" Ricker said, getting up and moving to her other side so that he was in her new field of vision. "If we wanted to hurt you, we would've," he said, like a math teacher at the end of his patience reciting an axiom to an underperforming student. He handed her the water bottle again. "Are you thirsty?" he repeated.

She didn't reply. Ricker took that as a "yes" and pressed the bottle into her bound hands. After a moment's hesitation, she took it and sprayed about an ounce of water into her mouth, then tilted the bottle and took a bigger swig once she had swallowed the first.

"Wh…what are you going to do with me?" she asked him as he took back the water bottle.

Ricker raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "I don't know," he said, and suddenly she had the strangest feeling that Ricker wasn't being sarcastic. "Hey, Cole," he said, raising his voice and calling to someone outside the room, "What are we supposed to do with her now?"

"We wait for Bauer."

The man who had spoken strode into the room. He was a short, blond man with piercing blue eyes. She recognized him as the one who had called himself "Cole Ortiz." Ortiz had been the leader of the group that had taken her back at the café. He walked like a soldier: careful, as if entering a potential ambush, yet confident in his ability to fight his way out of one. He also maintained a discrete distance from her as he walked around the room.

She'd caught him with her heel, right on the instep, when he grabbed her. She had done it so fast, it had surprised him and made him let her go. It had certainly surprised her. When she'd dared a look back, she had seen Ortiz hopping on his other foot and knocking over a nearby table. Even Ricker had been stunned into inaction by her bold escape. And had that alley I ducked down not been a dead end, she thought ruefully, it would have been a successful escape, and I'd be sitting in the departure lounge at the airport, not tied up in a warehouse like Nancy Drew. At the time, she had almost felt sheepish, turning around to face them and their guns.

Ricker stood up in deference to his boss and moved away. Ortiz stopped his circumnavigation of the room, then put his hand on his hips and faced her. He was looking down at her with a measuring expression, and was about to say something, when someone followed him into the room.

"She has to watch this," said the newcomer, a thin dark-haired man in his late-twenties or early thirties. It was the one who called himself "Arlo Glass," the final member of the trio who had abducted her (Dear God, she suddenly thought, please tell me they're not using their real names!). Glass walked to the center of the room and set an ipad onto the wooden spool as if it were a table. He used a stand built in to the back of the tablet to prop it up. The screen was blank, except for an enlarged video play icon from a media player. "We're not supposed to be in the room when she does," said Glass, as he turned back to his compatriots.

"Let's go, then," said Ortiz. He nodded to his other two team members, and they walked out of the room. Ortiz took one last look at their prisoner, and then followed.

As soon as they were gone, she was halfway up and scooted over to the makeshift table. She grabbed the ipad with her bound hands and began searching through the programs on it at high speed. Unfortunately, as she quickly discovered, all of the tablet's wireless and communications software had been either disabled or removed. In fact, most of the ipad's standard programs had been deleted – except for the media player. The play icon sat in the middle of the screen, almost mocking her.

This was unexpected. Somehow, they're doing it wrong, she thought. She was no expert on kidnapping – after all, this was her first - but even she knew that the ransom video was not meant to be shown to the victim. What am I supposed to do, write a review for the Sun Times? she thought: Gene, I liked this film. I give it two thumbs up, cut off, and mailed to my family. She almost chuckled aloud, when she had a sudden, chilling realization:

What if I'm not the victim?

It was terrifying, but also terrifyingly possible. My God, I still have my security clearance, she thought. They could want me to do something for them, steal something…What if all this was just to get my attention, and they're holding somebody I care about? She looked at the ipad again. "Mom and Dad!"she said aloud. Jack…she thought.

With all the ramifications of this frightening new prospect running through her head, one can imagine how upset she was getting. So one can consequentially imagine the complete and utter surprise that was experienced when one Dr. Tess Fontana, radio astronomer, scientist, and former glorified government contractor, touched the video play icon and saw…

Herself.

"Hey, me, it's you," said Tess-on-the-screen. "Hey, um, buckle up, because this is going to take some explaining…"

Doot…deet…doot…deet…