Treachery - Mission Accomplished

A/N: Please note that regardless of appearance, all characters are above the legal age of consent.

A month after Ianto left Torchwood, Tosh couldn't stand not knowing what had happened to Ianto. She began a discrete search of Jack's files carefully covering her tracks at each step. It took her twelve weeks before she hit pay dirt.

A picture of Ianto. There he was, walking through a park with manicured lawns followed by some other people. Digging further she finally found his new identity and location. Keith Griffiths, living in Edinburgh, working as a local tour guide. She chuckled to herself thinking of Ianto actually working in the tourist industry.

There were a few more pictures – Ianto with his tour guide colleagues in their navy blazers, a surveillance photo of Ianto at a pub chatting up an attractive young lady, and Ianto riding a bicycle on a back country road. He looked fit and relaxed and seemed to be adjusting well to his new life.

She searched a bit further and found some records of training by the tour company. She smiled when she saw the name of the class instructor – Archie McDougal. So that was the friend that Jack said would be helping Ianto adjust. And probably keeping an eye on him as well.

She wanted to know more, but decided that she had enough information to put her mind at rest. Ianto was safe and happy and doing well in his new life. She retraced her steps, making sure that all evidence of her search was destroyed. For reasons she didn't fully understand, she downloaded a copy of the picture of Ianto and his tour group onto a DVD. She knew she couldn't risk storing it on a computer at the Hub, but she could look at it on her personal laptop at home which wasn't wired into the Torchwood network. It was the only photo she had of Ianto and she knew that having it would help to soothe away any fears she had about Ianto's safety.

In his office, Jack was following her every move. He knew exactly how deep she had dug (surprisingly not as far as he anticipated), and that she had copied the picture. Jack smiled. He was glad he had thought to have had UNIT create a series of pictures that would be sent to him along with fake updates from Archie. They were flawless, altered pixel by pixel so that the forgery was undetectable. And of course, Archie's updates (created by the very UNIT team that kept an eye on Torchwood Two), were accompanied by highly compressed versions of the photos. They had even sent a few blurry ones with one report complete with Archie bemoaning the complicated nature of digital cameras.

Jack himself had no idea what was really going on with Ianto. And while he would sometimes miss Ianto's coffee and his dry sarcastic wit, he convinced himself that his only other choice would have been execution or retconning Ianto back to high school. As the months passed, he almost began to believe that Ianto was working as a tour guide in Scotland. But in the deepest part of his soul, he knew that Ianto was in a UNIT prison, never to be seen again.

TwTwTw

After eight months with UNIT Ianto, once known as Prisoner 35417 and now known as Agent John Thomas was deemed ready for his first assignment. It was a theft from a secure government lab in Cambridge and his UNIT handlers were astonished at how easily he was able to slip past security, find the designated files and walk out of the facility unnoticed all during working hours.

John/Ianto felt a rush of pleasure as he returned to his Cambridge hotel room. His handlers were waiting for him, heaping praise on his performance. They went out for drinks and John found himself being chatted up by a stunning woman about his age. His handlers laughed, told him to have a good night and left him on his own. They had nothing to worry about; she was a UNIT pleasure worker and would reward John enthusiastically for his successful mission.

More difficult missions followed, and each time John performed flawlessly. His handlers monitored him from UNIT headquarters in London, but John operated on his own. He followed his orders to the letter but was still able to improvise when he had to. In less than two years, John was promoted to the most prized agent position…Assassin.

With his new position he was provided with a beautiful flat in London, a sleek black BMW and a much higher pay grade. He wouldn't be given an assignment for a number of months and UNIT made sure their top agents didn't risk compromising their safety or identity by making friends outside of the organization of visiting the local trade. John made extensive use of the pleasure workers and was astonished that whoever showed up was invariably exactly what he needed. He wasn't sure how UNIT knew his moods so well, but he couldn't complain. His life was amazing.

He had always wanted to be James Bond, and now he really was, right down to the fast cars, beautiful people to shag, adventure and excitement. He couldn't fathom how he, John Thomas, from a working class family in Newport, had gone from doing odd jobs in London to UNIT Assassin. He knew he had had an accident while painting the outside of a house; apparently it had belonged to a high ranking UNIT official. All he knew was that he woke up in a hospital with three years of his memories missing and a man in uniform watching him with the gravest concern.

"I'm so sorry; I had no idea that the ladder was defective."

John Thomas had squinted at him, not knowing who he was. Gradually, he was able to piece together the whole story; how he had seen a notice pinned to a bulletin board at a local job center for someone who had needed a painter. How he had been hired to do the job, and was furnished with the paint and ladder by the homeowner. And how at some point as he painted the top story of the two-story house ("True White Exterior Paint" – funny what he remembered) the ladder gave way and he fell sustaining a skull fracture. In hospital, his brain swelled and the doctors put him into an induced coma. When he woke up a week later, he couldn't remember anything from the last three years. His head hurt a lot, but the staff reassured him that it was do to the plates and screws they had used to put his fractured skull back together.

And then the homeowner had visited and said he wanted to help him get a new start. UNIT was an amazing place, and he wasn't bothered when he learned that he would be involved in criminal activity. Hell, he had a pretty extensive rap sheet already, (he was a bit surprised when UNIT first showed it to him) including shoplifting, petty theft, breaking and entering, simple assault (yeah that fight in the pub, he could remember it like it was yesterday) as well drug possession.

More training was involved prior to his first assignment in his new role. These weren't mere thefts or arsons or bombings that John would be involved in, they were murders of high ranking members of government and business. The security surrounding these individuals and the search for the killer would be intense so John learned about disguises and makeup, as well as new methods of self-defense and sophisticated weapons to kill. His handlers drove him hard but John drove himself even harder. He was determined to be the perfect Assassin, to never perform at anything less than one hundred percent. He returned to his flat at the end of each work day, mentally and physically exhausted. A quick dinner, a little television and he was ready for bed.

As he slept he began having the strangest dreams, ones which he remembered every detail of when he awoke. A naked young man, probably in his mid teens stood before him. He was impossibly beautiful, dark thick hair and large brown eyes, long eyelashes, his lower lip full and pouting. He was almost effeminate in his beauty, his soft nearly hairless olive skin unblemished except for a small tattoo of a sun above his heart. But as John's eyes panned down the stranger's body, it was obvious that he was no child. His dick was erect and John noticed that he was generously endowed and cut. John would invariably wake from this dream either fully hard or already spent. The boy (as John came to call him) haunted him every night, each dream taking him a little further into this new reality.

The night before his first mission he dreamt that the boy turned in a circle displaying himself for John's approval. He knelt in front of John, unzipped his trousers, released John's cock from his pants and opened his sensuous mouth. John abruptly woke up. His erection ached for relief. He closed his eyes, picturing the boy once again as he quickly stroked himself to completion. Sighing, he looked at his clock and saw that it was almost 6 AM. No point going back to sleep, he had a ten AM flight and some preparation to do before he left his flat.

John Thomas boarded the flight to Istanbul a little nervous but confident that this mission wouldn't present any problem. And he was right. Dressed like a typical tourist in khakis and a polo shirt, he tracked down the Turkish Minister of Finance UNIT wanted eliminated. Strolling through the Grand Bazaar he examined some clay tiles and bargained a bit over the price finally buying a few. It was easy enough to work his way over to where the Minister was walking with his wife and young son. Using his purchases as cover for his weapon John bumped into him in the crowded, narrow aisle. And in that moment, John had released the switchblade between the Minister's ribs, retracted it and apologized for his clumsiness and moved on. By the time the official realized he was injured John was two rows down casually buying a silk scarf for his 'girlfriend' back home.

He stuck around just long enough to see his target fall and a crowd begin to gather. Leaving through a side exit, he casually walked back to his hotel in the Old City. He wiped the blade with the scarf he had purchased and discarded the knife in a pre-designated bin outside a small café where it would be retrieved by a clean up agent. About a block from his destination he felt the familiar rush of pleasure that accompanied the conclusion of a successful assignment.

Arriving back at his hotel room he entered and found it empty. He was a bit disappointed; he had heard that his reward would be given to him at the successful conclusion of a mission. He shrugged, undressed and inspected his clothing carefully. No blood to be found anywhere, an excellent result.

He took a long hot shower, letting the spray wash away the tension he'd been holding inside. Stepping out of the shower he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped into the main area of the suite.

His mouth fell open and then formed a smile as he looked at the naked boy standing in front of him. It was the boy that John had seen in his dreams. The boy's cock was flaccid and he stroked himself lightly as he slowly turned around for John's inspection. John felt his groin tighten as he studied the taught buttock and strong legs on display. When the boy turned back to face him he was completely erect, his thick cock jutting out proudly. John felt his own cock stirring beneath the towel. Staring directly at John, the boy spoke for the first time.

"Do you like what you see?"

John felt a little light-headed as his blood rushed to his own cock and he became fully aroused. He swallowed hard, dropped his towel and nodded.