The eggs had long congealed as Gwen pushed them around her plate. She imagined her brain probably looked much the same. It certainly felt like it had been scrambled and overcooked. It wasn't that she wasn't listening to Rhys, it was just she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. So bloody tired.
"Anyway, I said to him; Sorry mate. But if you've got points you can't drive for us. And he said good luck finding anyone else to do it on a Saturday. So I told him he wasn't covered by the insurance and- am I boring you love?"
"No." She replied much too quickly considering the mundane topic of conversation.
"And by no you mean yes." He smiled playfully. Petty as he liked to be on occasion, now was not the time. "I've studied Women you see. Quite thoroughly for about the past decade. Go on then. What have you been up to?"
She shifted in the chair. The table wobbled on its uneven legs against the greasy lino of the cafe. "Nothing nice. More missing people." She mumbled, leaning onto her hand. If she could just shut her eyes for ten minutes she'd feel much better.
"Oh." Rhys intoned, slightly deflated.
"I'm not even sure this is a Torchwood matter." She shook her head and did her best not to yawn. "There's no rift spike and nothing odd. People just... vanish."
Tasting his coffee Rhys resisted the urge to spit it back into the cup and simply swallowed hard and placed the cup onto the table. He'd forgotten that the coffee at Desi's was always this bad. He should have gone with the tea. Tea was always a safe bet. Unless they used UHT milk. "But the police can't find anything?"
"No." She shifted in her chair again. It was sticky. How had she found the only sticky chair in a place this greasy? "The only thing they have in common is a transit van hanging around each location where they went missing from."
"So attack of the white van man is it?" He said, straight faced.
Gwen scowled back at him, "Not funny Rhys."
"Just trying to lighten the mood love." He said with an apologetic smile. Why did every conversation with her have to be the end of the world? "So what, no clues. No trail."
"Not that I can find. I've put the hub software to lookout for anything suspicious but- well. A lot of it hasn't worked properly since Tosh-"
She trailed off. And glanced at her feet for a moment. She'd just about gotten used to talking about them in the past tense, but occasionally when she'd say it out loud it would catch her.
She sighed and carried on. "Usually when I can't get it to work I ask Ianto to go and have a word with the server."
"He'll be alright though." Rhys replied almost dismissively.
"I hope so. I can't cope with Jack this miserable."
Reaching out, Rhys touched his wife's hand. There were a few hundred things he'd like to have said to her. But it all seemed to pale against her working life problems. How could he ever say anything to make any of this better? She stared at the floor, miserable and so different from the woman he fell in love with. But she was in there. She just took time to surface on occasions like these.
Then she looked up at him. And it was the sight of him that made her smile. And moments like that made him wonder how the hell she'd chosen him over the other men in her life.
"Take me home." She smiled sleepily.
He had been about to reply when Gwen's phone suddenly rang. She looked at the caller ID before answering her it.
"Hi Martha," She managed to say before her expression dropped. "What? What do you mean gone?"
Typical. Rhys thought. Bloody typical Torchwood.
"Well where? Did he say?" Gwen was shaking her head and looking annoyed. "Oh that man can be such a Muppet at times! Captain bloody Chaos."
Rhys wondered if he should go and start the car now.
"No. Ok .I don't know. I'll let you know as soon as I do."
She hung the phone us and stood up, pushing the chair backwards and reaching to the back of it for her jacket. "Jack's gone. Didn't say where. He just got a phone call and pissed off."
"Oh dear." Rhys managed to say.
"Every time." She continued with her rant. "Every time we have a bloody great big crisis and need him he just runs away. He's about as much use as fireproof matches."
As she pulled her jacket on her phone started to ring again.
"What? Who? Andy is that you?"
Rhys couldn't believe it. So much for being the man in her life.
"What? He's what?"
She looked over at Rhys, somewhere between puzzled and shocked. "I'll be right there."
The kid in the cell looked nervous. More nervous than being found with stolen goods. He was very young. He couldn't be more than 17. There were another 7 of them. All varying in age, football hooligans. Scum of the earth. Rugby never caused this type of shit. The worst thing Jack had got off a blues fan was hug from a seven foot guy from Blackwood. These kids were just racist homophobic scum. And Jack's blood boiled a little. And what was worse, he'd seen the full CCTV footage. Punches, kicks, pack animal rage. The white van that drove past and didn't even have the decency to stop. And any thoughts of handling this in a reasonable manner had fled.
Barry Jenkins didn't make eye contact as the man in the coat entered the interview room. He wasn't a copper. That was clear. He was dressed like a guy from world war two. What the hell? Weird. The man in the coat turned the chair across the table from Barry around and slung himself over it, putting the back of the chair between them.
"You're in a lot of trouble, Barry." The voice was soft. American. There was an edge of restraint. Barry didn't feel so safe. Too many Guantanamo stories made him nervous. "Start talking."
"I's don't have to say nothin' without a lawyer."
A piece of paper fell in front of Barry. It gave him a bad feeling, he knew he wouldn't like what it said.
"Do you know what that says?"
Barry shook his head, getting the feeling this guy wanted to rip his limbs out.
"That's the official secrets act." The man in the coat continued. "That says I can lock you in a black hole until I see fit to let you go."
"But-"
"No lawyers. No visiting rights. No appeal. No Bail. No Jury. NO Judge. Just you and me. In a room, until you talk. So come on Barry."
Barry looked at the paper. It looked real. It was signed by the home office. Shit. Nervous, he stayed silent. The man in the coat sighed with impatience.
"We got the gun back, and the wallet. But we need the phone and the PDA. Where are they?"
"I don't know."
"THAT'S NOT- what I want to hear." The man in the coat half shouted the sentence before thinking better of it. "What happened, Barry? Did you sell them? Did you give them to a friend to hold onto?"
"I don't know."
Before Barry had finished the sentence the man in the coat grabbed hold of him and slammed his head against the table. Barry cried out as the table top met with his temple. He tried to push the man away but he grabbed Barry's arms and held them behind his back. He cuffed him. Then slammed his head on the table again.
"Didn't you think it was strange the gun had no serial number? That the wallet didn't bother him but he really didn't want to part with the PDA? You didn't even think to ask what the pills were?"
"Get off me!" He shouted, hoping for once in his life that the cops would come running. This guy was right nutter.
"Who did it Barry? Did you all have a go or did you just stand back while you're mates had a laugh?"
"He started it!" Barry shouted as defiantly as he could while concentrating on not pissing himself.
The man in the coat slammed his head onto the table again. "Don't lie to me Barry. I get really pissed off when people lie to me. "
"He did though," Barry protested. The man's grip on his collar loosened. "He was twitchy and looking over his shoulder, then he walked right into Sam. And he bloody meant to."
The man in the coat absorbed this for a second and then reasserted his grip. "So a guy walks into you, then you try and kill him. Reasonable reaction Barry. So go on. Who picked up the gun? Cos at the moment you're all culpable."
"It was Sol. He held the gun to him. I never made him take no pills."
That would be enough wouldn't it? It was the truth. Barry had punched the guy. Once. Not that hard neither. But Sol went crazy when he found the gun. He was waving it around and clicking it. Sol always was a bit of a psycho.
"Did you tell him to stop? Did you ask him to put the gun down?" The guy in the coat seemed to be driving Barry's head into the table.
"No."
"You knew it might kill him but you didn't ask Sol to stop."
"I didn't think-" his voice cracked. He was more nervous about Sol turning around and shooting one of them for a laugh more than anything else.
"No Barry, your type never does."
The man in the coat reached into his pocket, then put a gun squarely in Barry's face.
"Oh my god,"
"Look at it!" The man shouted. Angry. Angry enough to kill him, like this? With the police outside. That piece of paper said he could.
"Don't shoot me!" Barry pleaded. His eyes watered.
"Look at the gun. There's no serial number- you know why?"
He shook his head as much as he could with it being held against the table. "No."
"Because the guy you attacked spends his life saving idiots like you from threats you can't begin to imagine. That's how you've put yourself in a whole heap of shit. Where's the phone and PDA?" He roared.
It bawls out, like a child admitting they did something wrong and begging for forgiveness. "I gave them to my brother to hold onto. He doesn't know they're nicked. Please, he's just a kid."
The man in the coat loosens his grip. His voice keeps his harsh edge. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"If I find he hasn't got them-"
"I swear." Tears leak into Barry's mouth. He can taste the salt. The man lets go of him. Barry pulls himself upright.
"Open your mouth."
He looked at the man, puzzled. What does he want now?
"I said- open- your- MOUTH."
Hands grab at Barry's face and his jaw is forced open. A pill goes on his tongue. Barry has a horrible feeling. The man in the coat holds his mouth shut.
"Swallow. Swallow it!"
With a painful gulp the pill went down Barry's dry throat. He felt strange right away.
"Are you scared?"
Tears formed as Barry nodded yes.
"Good. Try and make something of your life Barry Jenkins, I don't want to see you again."
The man in the grey coat slides out of view as Barry passed out into a blissful sleep on the table top.
Jack stepped out the cell and straightened himself. Gwen stepped forward as Jack let the cell door slam. "Gwen, PDA and Phone are with Jenkins younger brother. Go easy but get them back."
Ignoring the orders Jack had just given her Gwen ran behind him as he swept down the corridor like the shadow of vengeance. "Jack, you can't just keep beating people until you find out what happened."
"Funny, I've got a piece of paper that says I can. And you know it seems to be working."
"Jack-"
"No." He turned to her and cut off what she was going to say. "I don't need you to start telling me how to treat this scum. ASBO's, court orders, tagging. None of it works! These little sociopaths only understand one thing-"
"So what? You just act like they do?"
He didn't reply, just thundered away from her. He was going to get the bottom of this.