Rex had been following this man for a while now. Even to the point where Gwen had started teasing him about it.
"You're so obsessed with the man, why don't you just marry him?!"
"I know a way to get answers, sleep with him, you should know what he likes with all the time you spent reading up on him!"
And every time Rex pulled up the man's image on the screen…
"God, swipe right already!"
Now Rex knew that there was…nothing wrong with being gay… he just… didn't like being called it. Goddammit, he wasn't like Jack! And the whole immortality thing wasn't helping him. He had Jack's blood running through him, didn't gay people have loads of illnesses?
This was the point where Gwen called him homophobic. And a douche. And many other less friendly words and names…
Anyway. Back to the man. His name was Harry Oscar Wright. Or Hal to his Etonion friends. Hal was a high flying socialite with an interest in the "supernatural". He was a benefactor and sponsor of UNIT, CIA, and several other not-so-secret, secret alien-fighting organisations. There was no doubt in Rex's mind that Hal knew about Torchwood. Why else would the man choose to live in Cardiff of all places?! I mean the man was a golfing buddy of Malcolm Merlyn before the whole earthquake business. The only reason for Hal to slum it in Cardiff must be Torchwood, Rex thought.
So why hadn't the darn man made a move. They'd been no hacking, no spying, no assassinations, no attempt to find the hub, or him and Gwen. At least, from what Rex had worked out… The man must have something planned! Hence why Rex had been watching him for so long, without success.
That was until a few days ago however. Rex logged onto the Torchwood computers to find, not just his super special and secret trackers beeping madly, but even his Google Alerts for "Hal." It was all over the news in fact. Hal was having a party. A super mega, mighty fancy party with representatives from every big conglomerate and government going. CIA, UNIT, BBC, Apple, Fox, the MET, Palmer Tec., News Corp, MI9, 10, and 11, IBM, ITV, MGM, ABC, MIT, C. of E. The man could rearrange the alphabet with this guest list.
Something was going to down. For sure. Rex just had to find a way in… maybe through the CIA invite? No, Hal was looking to invite the top of the top, not some lowdown officer, who was still in the trenches.
Rex was sat at his desk in the hub. It was still neat and tidy, with a sprinkling of post-it notes dotted around. He sat searching with his computer for a way to get in. Waiter? Driver? Crasher? He wasn't getting any inspiration, and he span around in his chair and let out a big sigh.
"Why don't we just go with Andy?" Gwen said whilst carefully carrying two mugs of coffee up the steps to Rex's desk.
"What?"
"God, did you just skip to all the fancy guests? Look," Gwen forced the mugs into Rex's hands, and grabbed the mouse, scrolling through a news article, detailing exactly who was going. After a while, she stopped and pointed at the screen. "Cardiff Police Force! And aren't you lucky that I still have my old connections there! I think I still have the handcuffs somewhere…" She let out a big single laugh in Rex's direction, turning more to the computer when Rex refused to join in the joke. She hated how serious Rex was sometimes.
"I've already texted Andy to try and sus what's happening their end. He said that they were going to send some local officers to represent the importance of community or something, anyway that's how he's going." Gwen rattled off, moving away from the computer and grabbing her mug of coffee. She sipped, and added, "There's room for us to get in. Got a tux?" Finishing with a smile.
