Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Ianto Jones lay still, his head resting on Jack's shoulder. Impulsive sex was the one part of their sporadic relationship Ianto thought he understood. The prelude went predictably. They bumped into each other during dinner clean up. With no one else there, they kissed against the counter. Then went back to Jack's room. Ianto wasn't sure what changed by the time they arrived, but Jack couldn't go through with it. Then insisted Ianto stay.
"Upset?" Jack trailed his finger tips up Ianto's arm.
"Confused."
"You deserve better than being a surrogate." Jack sounded haunted.
Ianto wondered not for the first time what happened in the other time line. It was a hard concept to wrap his mind around. "It's all this ever was." Jack loved Gwen. For this version of Jack, she had been replaced with a woman named Sioned that Ianto suspected was a lot like Gwen.
"No." Jack shifted, resting a hand on Ianto's upper arm. "I learned the hard way how much you mean to me."
Ianto imagined hearing something along those lines for years. No matter how much he wanted it, he didn't believe it. "I don't want an illusion."
Jack kissed Ianto's forehead. "I don't have a right to ask, but give me time."
"Does this new you require celibacy."
Jack's response was drowned out by an alarm. The door to the fake tourist office was forced. That was the easy part. The intruders needed to get through the secured door to the elevator, override security and reach the big door. Difficult but not impossible.
"Computer, lights," Ianto ordered as he slid off the bed and hurried over to his clothes. One advantage to their changed plans was he had everything folded. It wasn't scattered all over the floor.
The alarm stopped and the intercom clicked. "Scans indicate intruders are using Torchwood technology," Geraint said. "I deployed nonfatal defenses first."
Xylia announced, "Seismic disruptions in the traffic tunnel under Bute Place."
"Jack," Geraint said, "I don't have stun defenses to protect the walls. Any damage will destabilize the foundation and risk a flood. It has to be repaired at the molecular level."
"Give them a warning. Then do what you have to do."
Ianto finished fastening his pants and headed for the door. "I will be in the conference room." Trying to figure out how to explain we killed a Torchwood team trying to breach the hub.
Jack Harkness stood outside the conference room. He flipped open his wrist-strap and muted the intercom. The reports were good and bad. The team in the hallway didn't reach the elevator. One of the intruders in the traffic tunnel was dead and two more were injured. It remind him of the government bomb that destroy the hub in the original time line.
"John Hart."
"What happened?" John sounded tired.
"Hub security breach. It's contained, but we need a bot replicator, bots…" Jack wasn't sure how to ask if Anwen was recovered enough to offer security.
"Give us thirty minutes." She swore in Welsh.
"What is she saying?" Jack asked not sure he wanted to know.
"Something about gutting Covington and feeding him to the pigs." John hesitated. "She calls the politicians on Whitehall that hired him pigs."
Some things didn't change. "Securing the hub is the priority."
"Check on my dad and Ianto's family," Anwen said. "I wouldn't put it passed Covington to try leverage next."
The conversation ended in strained pleasantries. Jack closed his wrist-strap and stepped toward the door. It slid open revealing the conference room. He stepped inside.
Ianto stood in front of the screen looking annoyed, gripping his prosthetic hand too tightly in front of him. "I sent the scan data."
"That's not possible," the young man on the screen argued. "Torchwood doesn't attack it's own offices."
"Review the information."
"As I said," the man emphasized, "I'm not authorized to view it. The morning shift supervisor…"
"You need to wake someone," Ianto injected firmly. "We already ran facial recognition. All ten would-be intruders are Torchwood tactical response. Based in London." Ianto listed their names.
"Someone will call you back." The call was disconnected.
Ianto released his grip and his artificial thumb twitched. "I called the emergency line. It's Torchwood's 999. It was redirected automatically." He motioned at the screen. "The kid had no idea what he was doing. He's a night shift operator whose job is to tell people with general inquiries to call back during London business hours."
The Torchwood Institute; London, England
Pierce Covington stood at the large window in his office as the sun rose. The op should have been simple. Researchers assured him they could breach the hub. When Whitehall asked, he would stick to the truth as much as possible. Harkness overstepped his authority, raided a government office and refused to release sensitive materials vital to national security. The hub's unanticipated defenses supported the argument that Harkness went rogue. He withheld information from headquarters. More proof Harkness endangered Torchwood. Except it wouldn't be accepted.
If Whitehall found out about the historic projects in Wales, it would lead to closer scrutiny. Decisions were made and projects launched that were socially and politically acceptable at the time. People didn't understand that times changed. Exposing the past would threaten the future. Somehow the government lost the ability to see that.
A knock sounded at the door a moment before it opened. Langford Talbot entered, his footsteps barely audible on the carpet. Covington found the young man annoying. His parents Derrin and Janne Talbot worked for Torchwood since the 1980s or 90s. His father was an Army man. When Janne recommended Langford work in the new Institute, Covington tried to find a way out of it. He suggested Langford join the Army first.
"The prime minister's office is on line 1, sir."
Resigned, Covington turned and walked over to his desk. Explaining a successful recovery would have been easier. The failure coupled by the fact that Harkness knew what he had, and refused to contain it, complicated matters. The last attempt to remove him hadn't worked. Even pointing out he claimed a military title he hadn't earned didn't help. Covington needed a new approach.
"Do you need anything else?"
A useful assistant, Covington thought as he settled behind his desk. "No." He reached for the desk phone.
Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales
Jack Harkness coordinated from the conference room anticipating a call from the prime minister. He spoke to five people already in Cardiff and London. While he made an effort not to make negative comments about the Institute in general, or Covington specifically, opinions weren't good.
The door slid open and Geraint entered. Jack looked up. The doctor looked concerned.
"Your friends are crazy."
Jack smiled. "Why?"
"They're in a storage room with a replication device. Producing large, automated vacuum cleaners."
Jack laughed. "Maintenance bots." Anwen called them Roombas. "Torchwood will eventually use them for everything."
Geraint sat down in his usual seat two chairs away on the left. "Why did you bring them here?" Geraint sounded like he was working toward asking something. "Anwen is talking about taking the Institute by force."
Jack's humor faded. "In 2047, she was the head of Torchwood." Jack had no idea how to explain. "She's not happy with current leadership."
Geraint removed a hand-held scanner from his pocket. "She looked familiar…" He trailed off. "She's Gwen's daughter. Except Gwen didn't have any." Pause. "Did Jolana have children?"
"I don't know." Jack didn't remember meeting a Jolana Hughes. Like Gwen, Geraint's wife might have used her maiden name professionally.
"Gwen might have been targeted to prevent Anwen from…"
Jack knew he should have thought of that. "What is your wife's maiden name?"
"Prochazka. It's Czech."
Which potentially explained why Geraint spoke the language fluently. "I don't recognize it." Jack needed to ask Anwen. She prided herself in knowing as many Torchwood employees as possible.
Geraint's shoulder's slumped. "The temporal anomalies. You, Kylia, your friends. It's the only idea I have left." He sighed. "There is a case file from 2006. A group of people in a plane were caught in a distortion. It brought them decades into the future."
Jack nodded. Diane's arrival caused Owen to have a psychological meltdown.
"I bribed case information from an Institute archivist." Geraint wasn't proud of it. "His son needed experimental surgery. I agreed to perform it for information. The boy survived," he emphasized. "Jolana's disappearance is a locked room mystery. She was seen on CCTV entering a section of the excavation through the only access point. She couldn't have left. But she did."
"Did the other version of me have a theory?"
Geraint nodded. "Jack wouldn't share."
That fit with the paranoia, but it didn't help. Jack suspected there were hidden data storage devices. It was what he would do. He hadn't found them yet, but it probably required knowing where they were.
"I need to know what happened."
Jack sympathized. It was easier for him. The Gwen he knew died years ago and there was no mystery about who or why or how. "If I find the answer, I will tell you." Although not knowing was better than some possibilities.
Derrin and Janne Talbot's Flat; London, England
Langford Talbot grabbed a vase from the cupboard and partly filled it with water. He set it on the counter and arranged the bouquet he picked up for his mother after work. As his shift started before dawn, he was allowed to leave early. With nothing left to do, Covington didn't like the request.
"They're lovely, dear." Janne set a hand on his back.
Affectionate and conniving, Langford thought. "Today wasn't that stressful, mum. You didn't have make dinner." He turned to look at her.
"Nonsense." She assured. "It's not every day the Torchwood Institute attacks Cardiff. With all the politicians and bureaucratic silliness, you deserve it."
While he knew she cared, she also wanted information. It was the whole reason she got him the job. Until Covington was hired to reestablish the Institute, she focused on which university he would attend. Langston suspected the list would reappear once Covington had been replaced. Unless mum didn't like his replacement.
"It could have been worse. Someone had to wake the prime minister."
"Oh, dear."
Langford at times wondered why anyone bought the act. She sounded like a clueless housewife from an old comedy. Maybe living with her gave him insight. She could plot an assassination with the same cheerful confidence as a church bake sale. And while she hadn't outright said it, he suspected she had been plotting against Covington the entire time he worked for Torchwood.
"Why did Covington do it?"
"Captain Harkness uncovered an unethical research project in Cardiff." Langford suspected she knew more about it than Covington. "The Welsh weren't happy before the attack. No one accepted Covington's excuses. He wanted to hide what the Captain found."
"Shining a light on past mistakes is not always the best idea."
Langford nodded. One of the many reasons he saw through his mother's act was comments that didn't fit. "Civilians reported the situation. There are Internet rumors now that armed police from London were killed trying to prevent Captain Harkness from viewing the site. Attacking the hub validates the rumors." Pause. "People made bad decisions. The guilty are either dead or too old to re-offend. Say 'sorry, it won't happen again.' Congratulate Captain Harkness for doing the right thing." Pause. "It's easier to keep secrets when civilians aren't suspicious."
She agreed. "How did Whitehall react?"
"I don't know."