9: Day Two - Jack
Jack wasn't quite sure how they made it across the grounds without being shot. It was broad daylight, the sirens and alarms were going off, and they were running for their lives across a secure military base, yet no one was chasing them. The grounds appeared empty. Jack couldn't wrap his mind around it; it was too easy.
"They're in complete lockdown," his companion murmured as Jack stopped and glanced behind them with a frown. "But they'll be able to reverse it soon enough, so we don't have much time. We need a good head start."
Jack turned back to the man he knew was Ianto Jones yet looked so different. At least he had dropped the odd accent and sounded more like the man Jack remembered. It was hard to believe that Ianto was there, standing right next to him. It felt like it had been forever since Ianto had called to warn him about the bomb, though to be honest, Jack wasn't sure how much time had passed. He'd never been blown up before and had no idea how long he had been in that cell while his flesh and bone regrew after being violently torn apart. Without a doubt, it had been the worse experience of his entire long life, and he did not want to go through it ever again.
Ianto pulled gently but insistently on Jack's hand and led them toward a UNIT SUV. "Come on, "he murmured, "I'll explain everything once we're safe."
Jack couldn't help but give him a skeptical look as he climbed into the passenger side. "Safe?" he asked, glancing out the window so that he didn't have to meet Ianto's strange brown eyes, hidden behind foreign glasses. "We're just going to drive out of here and hope they don't follow us?"
Ianto grinned as he drove toward the gate. "We're going to make sure they can't."
Jack was exhausted from his excruciating death, confused about his unexpected rescuer, and worried about everything else—his team, his family, the children. He hated not knowing what was going on, and he hated not being in control of whatever was happening around him. And he hated that he didn't seem to know this Ianto Jones anymore, who had waltzed in to a secure military facility, broken him out, and was completely confident that they would, in fact, escape. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, but Ianto tapped his leg.
"Sleep later, Jack. Time to go." Ianto grabbed a bag before hopping out of the SUV, leaving it parked right in front of the gate. He strode toward the gatehouse, reaching for the gun tucked behind him. The guard came out with his own weapon raised, focused on Ianto and shouting at him to stop.
Ianto raised empty hands in surrender, which allowed Jack to take out the guard with the weapon Ianto had given him earlier, no words needed due to the implicit understanding of the situation and what needed to be done. Jack was strongly reminded of their silent coordination on Weevil hunts so many months ago. He and Ianto has always known exactly how to support one another, in the field and out of it, and seeing how easily they fell back into that pattern made him ache for all the times he'd gone without Ianto's strong presence in his life. Ianto grinned at him, and Jack couldn't help but nod back with a smile before the Welshman rushed past the fallen guard into the gatehouse, raised the gate, then grabbed Jack by the hand again and dragged him into the road.
"Not sure walking is the best method of escape in these situations," said Jack. Ianto turned, raised his gun at the UNIT vehicle and fired several well-placed shots. With a bang and a roar, the car exploded, effectively blocking the gate with a large fireball. "Ah, that's our head start," Jack said with an understanding nod.
"That's the idea," said Ianto.
"Bomb?" Jack asked.
"Ten pounds of impact explosive with a case full of gel fuel in the boot," Ianto replied.
"You always drive around with that much firepower under your bonnet?"
"Only when I'm trying to break people out of secure military bases," Ianto replied dryly. "Come on. There should be another car about half a kilometer from here."
"You really thought this through," Jack murmured, thoroughly impressed.
"I try my best, sir," Ianto replied as he reached into the bag and offered Jack a pair of shoes. He slipped them on and nodded his thanks, the simple words tugging at his heart.
"As soon as we get there, I'd really like to know what the hell is going on," Jack said. Ianto started jogging down the road, and Jack followed as best as he could, knowing his adrenaline would soon wear out.
"I'll tell you what I can," said Ianto. "But I'm still not sure what's going on myself."
"How long has it been since the bomb went off?" asked Jack. He needed information, first of all. If he'd been out for days, everything might be done and over, with nothing to worry about but the inevitable consequences and clean up operation.
"Last night," said Ianto. He slowed down, glancing around until he saw the inconspicuous car parked on the side of the road. It was a rusty piece of junk, the hood propped up as if it had simply died right there and been abandoned. Ianto slammed the hood closed, picked the lock easily, and climbed in, starting it immediately with a key stashed under the seat. Jack took a deep breath and followed, once again stuck in the passenger seat, out of control.
Pulling off the grass, Ianto started slowly down the road, then increased his speed until he was flying quite a bit faster than Jack ever remembered the Welshman driving in Cardiff. The silence stretched between them.
Jack kept glancing behind them, waiting for the pursuit to arrive with guns blazing, but it never came. It seemed Ianto had everything planned. Jack was itching for answers, so he started asking the questions that had been forming in his mind since he'd heard Ianto's voice on his mobile, starting with the most immediate.
"Where are we going?" he asked. Ianto glanced sideways at him, the mask of cool confidence slipping slightly.
"I thought we'd go back to the Hub. I'm hoping the lower levels might be undamaged." He frowned. "Although I didn't think what it would be like for you after…" He trailed off, biting his lip as he shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine," said Jack. "But we should go to Flat Holm. It's the best place to regroup."
"And hopefully no one will think to look there," agreed Ianto. "They might still be watching the Hub."
Jack gave him a thoughtful look and glanced out the window. "Maybe. The others know to make their way there in case the Hub is compromised or destroyed. So we huddle there. What next?"
"I don't know," Ianto said quietly. "I've only thought up to getting you out."
"Why?" asked Jack, and Ianto frowned at him.
"Why what? Why haven't I thought ahead? Frankly, I wasn't sure it would work."
"No, why did you come for me?" asked Jack. He didn't turn to look at Ianto, but could feel the man's eyes piercing him, and the curt tone to his voice made his feelings clear enough.
"I should think that was obvious, Jack!" Ianto snapped. "You're immortal. I couldn't let them keep trying to kill you until it stuck. Or worse. Johnson wanted to put you in concrete." Jack shuddered at the thought, remembering his long years buried underground.
"That's it?" asked Jack. He heard the bitterness in his voice and didn't bother to disguise it. He was angry—about being killed and captured, about losing the Hub and quite possibly his team—and though he knew he was displacing his anger onto Ianto, he was also upset at the other man for appearing so unexpectedly at such a difficult time, even if Ianto had saved his life.
"Jack, this isn't about us right now. I know you're probably angry and confused, but—"
Jack waved his hand, stopping him and turning his body toward the Welshman. "Yes, I'm angry and confused, and I know it's not about you or me, but there are still some things I need to know, need to understand, before we move forward here. Like where you've been for the last year, and why you're suddenly back in the game now."
Ianto sighed. He nodded as he glanced briefly at Jack. "Yes, I imagine you do. Fine. I'm taking the long way, so we've got time, unless you want to sleep."
"I want to talk," said Jack, although sleep was tempting. He was nothing if not stubborn, however, and he couldn't rest until he had some grasp of what was going on.
"What do you want to know?" asked Ianto.
"Where have you been?"
"Around," said Ianto, obviously evading a more specific answer. "But most recently, I've been in England."
"You said you called me from London," said Jack, and Ianto nodded. "What have you been doing there?"
Jack watched Ianto carefully, their time together coming back to him as he read the other man's reaction: a deep breath to relax the tightening around his eyes as his hands gripped the steering wheel harder. Ianto was nervous, even scared, and Jack suspected there was guilt and shame in his face as well.
"I've been working for UNIT," Ianto said softly. When Jack was silent, Ianto turned to look at him, blue eyes full of uncertainty and regret.
"How long?" asked Jack.
"Eight months," said Ianto, and it finally clicked. Jack nodded, turning back to the window as the anger and hurt surged through him.
"Eight months," he murmured. "You didn't take the Retcon, did you?"
"Jack…" started Ianto, sounded weary, but Jack stopped him.
"Did you?" he demanded, and glanced back to see Ianto shake his head.
Jack leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He contemplated falling asleep right there, avoiding the rest of the conversation in favor of rest, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he understood what was going on, with both Ianto and everything else swirling around him. Then again, this was Ianto Jones he was speaking to; Jack was starting to wonder if he had ever really known the man.
"Why?" he whispered, and he heard Ianto swallow hard next to him. He turned and watched the Welshman struggle with his emotions, swiping angrily at his eyes as he continued to drive, obviously trying to pull the words together.
"Ianto, why did you leave?" asked Jack, his voice quiet. There was no anger anymore, only confusion and pain, and Ianto's shoulders shook as he answered.
"I had to," he said. "I couldn't stay. I didn't plan on joining UNIT, but after two months of wandering aimlessly, I needed something. A purpose." He swallowed and shrugged. "They didn't accept me immediately. It was…difficult."
"I can imagine," murmured Jack.
Ianto shot him a look of gratitude, that Jack was not condemning him, at least for now. "They decided they could either use me or throw me in prison for desertion. I took the deal and was placed in Broadsword."
Jack nodded. It made a twisted sort of sense, to make use of Ianto's skills and experience. Ianto had ended up much like Toshiko, trading his freedom for the job. "So special ops, then?"
"It seemed to fit my skill set," Ianto replied with a brittle laugh. "Although it feels like I've done nothing but muck up since I started."
"You're Broderick Cole," said Jack, confirming the gut instinct he'd followed for months. "You came to Cardiff when I was in a coma."
"I did."
"Why?"
Ianto shook his head impatiently. "Jack, just because I left doesn't mean I don't care. You were in a coma. That's never happened. I wanted to help."
Jack nodded, accepting Ianto's answer. "Okay, then how come when I went to London a week later, UNIT told me Broderick Cole was dead?"
"Because he was," Ianto replied, and this time the bitterness was clear. "My handler killed that identity and set me up with a new one when he realized what I had done."
"Punishment?" asked Jack in surprise.
"In a way." Ianto sighed. "Condition of employment, that I have no further contact with Torchwood. You figured it out, so Cole had to go. We couldn't let you find me."
"You became Alun Matthews," said Jack, knowing he was right. Ianto laughed again.
"Who disappeared after you followed him to Australia," he said.
"You have a strict handler," Jack murmured, and Ianto nodded fervently.
"You have no idea. He's also brilliant and terrifying."
"So that brings us to today. Is he helping you with this little adventure?"
"Yes. It was his idea, he got me in and he got us out. Is that enough for now? Because we need to talk about the broader picture. There's more going on here than my disappearance ten months ago."
"The children," murmured Jack. They were cruising down the A33 now, and though Jack wanted more answers from Ianto about his time away, he also knew that there were other concerns to discuss. "But I want to talk about you more later."
Ianto sighed. "Fine. Were you able to learn anything about the children before the Hub blew?" Jack shook his head.
"Not really. Gwen and Martha talked to a man who was affected by it, while Jake and Mickey worked the tech angle at the Hub."
"And did they find anything?" asked Ianto.
"Not that I know of. I was kind of busy getting killed." He let his eyes slip closed and tried not to think about it. A surprising touch on his knee found Ianto taking his hand and holding tight.
"I'm so sorry," Ianto whispered, choking up as he had on the phone. "God, Jack, I can't imagine what it was like."
"Not my best day," Jack murmured, but the jest was hollow. It had been hell.
"Do you know who did it? Or why?"
"I have no idea," said Jack. "I went to the hospital to meet with a doctor and try to see some kids, and then the next thing I know I woke up lying dead next to him and you're calling to tell me there's a bomb in my stomach. How did you know?"
"Right. My turn again," said Ianto. He was still driving along at a fast clip, his concentration locked on the road before him and behind him. "I've been at Thames House since Australia, light duty to recover and regroup, a sort of liason to MI5. Their alien tech guy had a message come through this morning on some ancient radio he keeps. He ran off to the Home Office with it."
"To John Frobisher?" asked Jack in surprise.
"Oduya was at there to see Frobisher too, about the children. Whatever's going on, it's big and it's connected. Dekker said they've been here before. We think Torchwood might have been involved, and that's why they wanted to take you out."
Jack gave him a confused look. "But what are they? Who are they?"
"Dekker said they're known as the 456 because that's the frequency they use to communicate."
"The 456…" Jack trailed off, his heart turning to ice. "Oh my god. They're back." He felt his breath catch and then speed up as if he was going to have a panic attack. His past, his mistake, his guilt—it all came rushing back, crushing him with the enormity of the situation. It suddenly all made sense. The children. The old radio. The frequency.
But why were they trying to hide it by killing him?
"Jack?" asked Ianto, and Jack was fairly sure the man had been calling his name for at least a minute as he sounded more and more panicked. "What is it? What do you know?"
"They have been here before," Jack said quietly. "In 1965. I was there."
"I figured that was the case," Ianto said, still sounding confused. "What I don't understand is why they want to kill you. If you were there, if you dealt with them before, then they should be calling you, begging Torchwood to help."
Jack laughed bitterly. "No one likes asking Torchwood for help, you know that."
"True," said Ianto, offering a small smile. "So what do you think is going on?"
"I'm not sure." Jack brought a hand to his face, rubbed it to keep his eyes open and his mind working. There was still so much he didn't know. "Tell me more. Who gave the order to have us killed? And how did you find out about it?"
"I don't know exactly, no, but it came from Whitehall," Ianto replied. "Dekker let slip something about Torchwood being taken care of, so I did some digging, found the order, and contacted one of our sources for more intel. There was a blank page order to kill you and three others."
"Three others?" Jack asked sharply. "Who?"
Ianto rattled off the names, but Jack didn't recognize them. "Could they have also been involved in 1965?" he asked when Jack didn't say anything.
"I'd say it's likely," said Jack. "If I saw pictures, I might know for sure. We didn't use our real names. What about the rest of the team? Are they safe for now?"
When Ianto didn't answer immediately, Jack feared the worst. "Tell me," he said.
"Apparently they got out, because I was told that they're being sought by the same team that found you," said Ianto. "It appears the order now extends to them as well."
Jack swore again before something occurred to him, something he had forgotten until that moment. "What about you? What happened on the phone?" he demanded.
Ianto glanced at him wide-eyed. "I assumed the bomb went off," he said.
"No, you were disconnected first," said Jack. "You said they were listening to my phone. Did they get to you?"
"I'm fine."
"Did they get to you?" Jack repeated. Ianto stared straight ahead, until this time Jack reached for him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just because you left doesn't mean I don't care," he said softly, then grinned. "Also doesn't mean I'm not pissed off as hell, but I need to understand what's going on. Did they come after you?"
"Yes," Ianto said, still refusing to meet Jack's eyes.
"You got away, though," said Jack. "Tell me what happened."
"There's nothing to tell," said Ianto, his voice flat and quiet. "They traced the call and shot up my flat. I ran. I spent last night in a safe house before setting out this morning to get your arse out of Aston Down."
"Are you all right?" Jack asked softly, and Ianto turned to look at him.
"Are you?" he parried back.
"I usually am," Jack replied.
"The Hub's gone," Ianto pointed out. "Somehow, I thought it would be there forever."
"Sort of like me?" Jack replied, and Ianto rolled his eyes, though he smiled.
"Did you ever think of coming back?" Jack asked quietly. Ianto turned to look at him with sad eyes.
"All the time," he whispered.
Jack nodded and let his head fall back between the seat and the window. He closed his eyes and started trying to put the pieces of the puzzle back together. The 456 had returned. He had been there in 1965 when they had first come to Earth and demanded twelve children in exchange for an antivirus that would save the world. Their return could only mean the aliens could not be trusted. Were they back for more children? Did the government want to cover up the fact that they had already cooperated once? Were they planning to cooperate again? Were they, even now, rounding up a group of children no one would miss?
Before he could answer, he felt sleep tugging at the corner of his mind. The last thing he remembered was Ianto's hand on his knee, urging him to rest.
When Jack woke, it was to the warmth of Ianto's coat across his chest, the scent of fish and chips intermingled with Ianto's aftershave. Glancing around, he saw that they were in a car park Jack recognized as being not far from the dock to Flat Holm. He hadn't slept for long, then. Turning his head, he found Ianto sitting next to him, staring at the ceiling.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep. Ianto let his head fall to the side and offered a crooked smile.
"What's not wrong?" he returned.
"I'm not in pieces, you're not in prison." He pointed to the greasy bag between them. "We've got food, and shelter is across the way. You, Ianto Jones, made us a hell of a get away."
"Right," said Ianto with a laugh that was half sigh. "Then let's go eat, I suppose."
Before he turned to leave the car, Jack reached for Ianto's hand and squeezed tight. "If I haven't already said so, thanks for coming after me."
Ianto squeezed back, but didn't reply before getting out of the car. He grabbed the food and the bag he'd tossed in the back while Jack pulled Ianto's coat over his scrubs and followed him to the dock. They were able to get a boat to the island immediately. Ianto paid the man generously, soliciting his silence, and Jack hoped the pilot wasn't hurt if they were somehow tracked to the area.
The staff at Flat Holm were overjoyed to see Jack, having heard about the explosion on the Plass from the news coverage. They'd assumed the worst for Jack and the team.
"How did you know the Hub was destroyed?" asked Jack, and Helen's eyes went wide.
"Mickey told us, of course," she exclaimed. "Come on, I'll take you to him."
"Mickey is here?" Jack asked, more relieved than he cared to admit. "What about the others? Did any of the others make it?"
"Martha is here as well," Helen told them as they walked, the fish and chips forgotten. "She was injured, though. They both were."
Jack walked faster, wanting to see his team. Ianto was to his right, where he had once stood at Jack's side, silent, strong, and supportive, and it felt natural and comforting to have him back. Yet the Welshman seemed both sad and apprehensive as he glanced around the facility, and Jack gave him a curious, questioning glance.
"Never thought I'd be back," Ianto murmured.
Helen stopped in front of them and turned around, squinting her eyes. "Back? What do you mean, back?"
"Helen, you remember Ianto Jones, right?" asked Jack, and her eyes went wide as a hand flew to her mouth.
"Mr. Jones!" she exclaimed. She pulled him in for a hug, then stepped back and frowned. "You certainly look different, but it's good to see you."
"You too, Helen," Ianto said softly, stepping back to Jack's side. Jack wanted to take the man's hand and offer him support; in fact, he wanted to do much more, the long months apart having done very little to quell his feelings for the man. Ianto had left them, had left Jack, but he was there now. He had tried to save Jack from the bomb, had in fact saved Jack from a terrible fate if what he'd said about the concrete was true. Jack knew Ianto had risked everything to help him and suspected he only knew the half of it. There were still so many things he needed to know, but any anger he had felt over the long months of Ianto's absence was muted by relief and hope, as well as the need to focus on the current situation, starting with his team. And Ianto was a part of that now.
Martha was sleeping when Helen opened the door to where she and Mickey were resting. Her face was scratched and bruised, her leg bound in a cast. Helen told them Martha had been knocked over by a large piece of debris in the blast, shattering her leg and leaving her with a slight concussion, bruised ribs, and numerous lacerations. Mickey was dozing in a chair beside her, his arm in a sling and a large bandage covering what Helen said were a dozen stitches to his head. He had a sprained knee that was propped up in front of him.
Mickey woke the moment the door opened, eyes widening when he saw Jack. Embraces were exchanged, followed by a quick recounting of what had happened to each of them. Jack introduced Ianto to Mickey and shared how Ianto had got him out of Aston Down, while Mickey told them how he had got Martha off the Plass and into hiding while avoiding the hit team. He had stabilized her until they'd been able to get to Flat Holm, where the doctors and nurses had treated them both.
"Have you heard from Jake?" asked Jack, knowing Jake and Mickey had been close. He was hoping for the best but suspected it was not good, especially when Mickey shook his head, his eyes hard.
"I don't think he made it. I snuck back toward the Hub when the sun came up and saw them carrying out a body bag."
"It was probably me," Jack murmured, shuddering as he tried not to think about it.
"I don't know how you survived that," Mickey said, shaking his head.
"Sometimes I don't know either, Mickey," Jack replied softly, then cleared his throat. "What about Gwen? Have you heard anything?"
Ianto stepped forward, a surprised look on his face. "Bryan told me she was captured but that she escaped." Jack turned toward him in surprise. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot to tell you."
Jack stared for a moment. "Bryan?" he asked, trying not to let any inflection show in his voice. He obviously failed, for Ianto rolled his eyes.
"My fifty-five-year-old married handler," Ianto replied. "The one who got both our arses out of that base."
"Remind me to thank him when this is all over," Jack murmured. "Maybe he'll tell me what you've been up to for the last eight months."
"I'll tell you myself," said Ianto, his tone laced with frustration and weariness. "But we have other priorities right now."
"I know, I know," Jack grumbled. "I was trying to lighten the mood." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So if Gwen escaped, where is she?"
"Right behind you," said a voice in the doorway. Gwen stood there with Rhys, eyes wide as she stared at the ragtag group in the small, dark room. Jack, wearing scrubs and Ianto's coat; Ianto, with his glasses and a beard; Martha, waking up and looking around in confusion; and Mickey, bandaged and grinning at her.
"Gwen Cooper, nice of you to show up," Jack drawled. He stood and hurried to embrace her, shaking hands with Rhys. When he turned back to his team, Gwen was checking on Martha and Mickey before moving toward Ianto, who had retreated toward a dark corner, as if trying to lose himself in shadows. He watched her warily as she moved closer.
"Ianto?" she whispered, and he nodded, then took off his glasses and shoved them in a pocket.
"Hi, Gwen," he said softly.
She lifted a shaking hand to his face, running her fingers along the short beard. And then they all winced as she pulled back and slapped him hard, leaving a large red imprint upon his cheek.
"That's for leaving us," she said before she threw herself into his arms. He looked startled as he wrapped his hands around her back, glancing at Rhys in confusion. "And that's for coming back," she whispered.
He kissed the top of her head and exchanged a look with Jack, his eyes bright with tears.
"I'm so sorry," Ianto whispered.
"I know," Jack mouthed back. And he did. He could see how much Ianto regretted hurting them. The question now was how did they move forward when the world might be coming to an end?
Author's Note:
Thank you thank you thank you Taamar! I can't say it enough.
And thank you for all the reviews, I'm so glad the last chapter came off well. This one is the first of several talks I suspect Jack and Ianto will be having over the course of this story. The next chapter is quite a bit longer and sees them all settle at Flat Holm, talk some more, and work out a plan of sorts. Hopefully something a bit more successful than canon! Thanks again!
