Ianto slowly opened his eyes. The groggy feeling of drugs still hadn't completely left his system. All he was aware of was the fact that he was cold, stiff and laying on the floor. He shifted. His legs were bound at the ankles and his hands were behind his back. He felt a sharp kick to his belly and he let out a loud, "Ooof!"
That pain cleared his mind. His eyes opened wide and he looked around. Jennifer was gazing down at him. She gave him a little wink and stood up.
"Hey there, sunshine," a man said.
He thrashed a bit, looking around. He was inside of some sort of warehouse. It wasn't abandoned, he could see crates and boxes on the metal shelving. Kent was standing behind her, grinning like a cat who'd just gotten the cream.
"I'd introduce myself but Jens, here, says you already know who I am," he said, kneeling down. He crouched low, his hands on his knees. He tilted his head at Ianto and smiled. "Well, they say you English are polite so I'll introduce myself anyway." He touched his chest and smiled. "Perry Kent. I'd offer to shake but you're kinda tied up."
Ianto had faced challenges in the alternate universe, some he'd even initiated, but this wasn't the alternate universe. Aside from Carl Brogen, Ianto had no other heads hanging on the scoreboard. In the alternate universe, he'd hesitated in creating a sort of stage name for himself. He always chuckled at Duncan's deep throated, theatrical introduction… I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. But it didn't take Ianto long to realise that introducing himself with a confident flourish gave the impression of age and skill. One certainly needed every advantage one could take, especially when tied and bound on a concrete floor.
"Ifan of Cymru," he said smoothly. "And I'm Welsh, not English."
He twisted his hands a bit, disguising the movement as annoyance. Whatever was binding his hands was wide and pulling the hair on his arms. Duct tape… he recognised.
"Ifan of Cymru," Kent said, slowly. He sounded like a child trying to sound out an unknown word. He shook his head and said, "Yeah, what-the-fuck-ever."
Kent walked away, rolling his eyes. He opened the cylindrical case with Ianto's longsword in it. He admired the heavy blade.
"Now this? This I know and this is what I call quality," he said, feeling the steel up and down. "Bouchard's work isn't it? You know that man's been forging steel since the Crusades."
Ianto was using the distraction to assess his situation. He could be just about anywhere. He hadn't been out long. He'd arrived at the hotel shortly before midday and the angle of the sun streaming through the windows said it was still the afternoon. He strained, listening for any sound. He wasn't surprised that he didn't hear any. What did surprise him was that he was still alive. The prudent decision would've been to kill him while he was still sedated. Though unsportsmanlike, it wasn't a technical violation of the rules. He hadn't expected Kent to fight with any honour.
Without looking down, Kent read Ianto's mind. "You're wondering why you're still alive, Mr. I'm-Welsh-not-English? I may be a lot of things but I'm not a cheat. Well, I'm not that much of a cheat." Ianto winced when Kent planted the point of his sword on the concrete. He smirked at Ianto's reaction to his sword's mistreatment. He laid it down on top of a crate. Ianto saw a gun laying on the crate as well. "And why would I kill you and deny my little protege here the pleasure of doing it herself? Oh, that's right, Mr. I'm-Welsh-not-English. You guys might think us Americans are slow, but right now, you're so slow you're practically in reverse."
Kent reached into the back of his jeans and tossed a gun at Jennifer who caught it, pointing it at him. That gun was Ianto's.
"Nice piece," she said, loudly. Ianto looked over at her and he watched as she winked again. This time giving a pointed look at Kent's back and then the gun.
Once he was certain Kent wasn't looking at him, Ianto nodded at her and she nodded back. This wasn't part of their plan but at this point, they were making things up as they went along.
Kent picked up the gun on the crate. This one Ianto didn't recognise and he had no idea where Kent had obtained it, not that it mattered much. Kent crouched down again and gave Ianto a light slap on the face. "Do you know how hard it is to do anything with those follow-me-every-fucking-where-ers following me fucking everywhere?" He jerked his head in Jennifer's direction. "A man's nothing without a good woman standing next to him, Mr. I'm-Welsh-not-English. It took me a while to find the right one. Didn't it, Jens?"
"Prize sow," she said, slyly.
"My silk purse," he replied. "And today's moving up day."
Before Jennifer could react, Kent turned and fired. The bullet landed squarely in the center of her chest. She fell backwards, Ianto's gun tumbling from her hand.
"NO!" Ianto shouted. He struggled against the tape but it was too late.
Jennifer moved her arms and legs weakly as she laid there. One hand tried to move itself to her chest but never made it.
"Oh Jesus…" she gasped.
Ianto could barely hear her and Kent ignored her. Ianto continued to stare at Jennifer. She took a deep, rattling breath and held it. She took another and another, gasping for air. Ianto couldn't help but morbidly count each breath. Six… seven… When Ianto got to nine, she let it out like a sigh. Her whole body relaxed and her head lolled to the side. She was dead.
It had taken Ianto many hours to revive but the alien creature, its venom and his teammates attempts to resuscitate him had severely damaged his body. Jennifer had only the single gunshot wound to the chest. He had no idea how long it would take, but he guessed not long. Kent's voice brought his attention back to him. He tapped the gun barrel to his own head. It was an impatient gesture.
"I fucking hate waiting," he said, his voice rising until the last word was a shout. He let out a sigh. He waved at Jennifer's body. "Sorry about this. Another bullet would've made that quicker but would've been longer on the flip side." He smiled and continued, "She and I are going to make one hell of a pair."
"This isn't a team sport, Kent," Ianto snapped.
In a poor attempt at mimicking Ianto's accent, Kent said, "This isn't a team sport…" He snorted and gave Ianto a light slap on the face. "You're one to talk. I heard you dropped that old padre like a ton of bricks. No way a fledgling like you takes down a guy with a couple of centuries on him. You either got real fucking lucky or you got real fucking 'lucky'." He made little quotes in the air with his fingers on the last word.
"Brogen was a madman," Ianto hissed.
Kent laughed. "Yeah, cos we're all real sane. That teacher of yours stepped in for you, didn't she?"
"No one did," he protested.
"Tsk, tsk. I must not tell lies. Someone else then?" Kent walked around Ianto in a circle. He leaned down, tapping the barrel of his gun against the wedding ring on Ianto's finger. "The hubby would be the next guess." When Ianto took a little too long to answer, Kent pounced. "Oh-ho! Gotcha! Don't worry, Mr. I'm-Welsh-not-English. We all get away with it once or twice."
Kent stood back up and walked around so he could face Ianto. "Guns… technology… airplanes… everything that's changed the world, changes the Game with it. It's not about following the rules anymore. It's about pushing the grey areas. And this?" he waved at Ianto's bound arms and legs. "This is a nice grey area."
He stood up and looked down at him. He waved the gun around and then pointed it at himself. "This isn't holy ground and I'm not going to hold you down while she kills you. Rules obeyed. Now, that syringe full of tranquiliser and the duct tape? Tomato… tomatoe…"
"I thought you weren't that much of a cheat," Ianto spat back.
"You're awake aren't you?" Kent said. He hooked his thumb into the waistband of his jeans and let the gun fall down to his side. Dressed differently, he'd look like something out of a western. "Look, if this was for me, we'd do this a little different. I'd cut you loose, toss you that fine ass sword over there and we'd settle this man to man, because if it were me, I know I'd want to go down fighting. But the little lady over there? We gotta build up her strength first. She needs weaning."
Kent and Ianto's heads both snapped around as Jennifer gasped to life.
"And boy does she know how to make an entrance," Kent said with a smile. He walked over to her. She'd rolled onto all fours and was coughing. Her nails were dug into the concrete floor and she was holding her chest with one of her hands. She'd started to cry, tears falling one by one. Her face was red and full of terror. She was crawling away from some unseen force, her fingers biting into the concrete.
"Hey, hey," Kent said, leaning down. He grabbed her around the waist and she struggled. "It's me. You're fine. You're back."
Jennifer slammed the heel of her hands into her forehead. "Oh Jesus, my head…"
"It's just from me and him. You'll get used to it," Kent said. He put the gun in his hand down on the ground. He smoothed her hair back. "How do you feel?"
A surprised look was on her face as she knelt and looked down at her shirt. "It's just my head. Otherwise, fine… I feel… fine… no different than before."
"That's my girl," Kent said with a smile. He waved at Ianto's sword. "I think his is too big for you."
She let out a mad laugh and dragged Kent in for a kiss. "You always looked after me Perry. You got my Momma that job at the truck stop. You put that money away so my kid brother could go to the junior college."
"Hey don't get sappy on me, Jens. Don't lose focus," he said, sternly. He stood up and walked towards his own sword. "You want to use my sword?"
Jennifer grabbed the gun Kent had so carelessly abandoned. "I think I will."
She emptied the revolver into Kent's back. It's hard to miss someone standing less than five feet away from you. The bullets hit Kent squarely in the back and he fell to his knees. He coughed, blood dribbling down his lip. "Jens…?"
"You know," she said, standing. Her voice darkened with each word and with each word, she stepped closer to where Kent's sword was resting. "I always fucking hate it when you call me that."
She picked it up, wrapping both hands on the hilt. She kept adjusting the grip, finding what was comfortable. "Hey, Perry? Say hi to my Daddy for me when you see him in Hell."
Kent was too shocked to respond or react. He just stared dumbly as Jennifer raised the sword and swung with all her might. Slicing off someone's head in one swing is a lot harder than they make it appear in films. It usually takes training and skill to do the job cleanly. Maybe Jennifer had imagined the moment or seen Kent do it enough but she managed to aim properly and swing strongly. Kent's head went rolling and his body fell, blood pooling beneath both. There was nothing on her face but complete satisfaction until the lightning began and then there was nothing but pain.