Isaak freezes behind his weapon. Gwen, on his right, flinches a little at the sight of Jack on the floor; Owen, on his left, widens his stance and tightens his grip on the gun in his hand. When his gaze moves from Jack to Toron, a slight shiver runs up his back. Black eyes framed by a thin trickle of green blood seem to want to bore into his soul.
With the power of dynamite, the walls of another memory are blasted apart in Isaak's mind: those black eyes boring into his from a higher vantage point. Toron had forced Isaak to sit in a low chair so that the big man had to look up at his captor. Darkness all around, only the feel of the chair beneath him and the solidness of the floor under his feet made it real. A deep, gravelly voice: Sirko, if you join me, you may continue your life just as it was, except now you answer to no one but me. You would make a fine ally; I will pay you handsomely for your troubles—anything you desire is yours for the asking.
Toron plucked him from what he now knows is the thing that Jack calls the Rift. Isaak's only knowledge of the thing was a floating timelessness…he was sure it was Purgatory, so sure that he was finally paying for some of his worse crimes. But, wasn't losing Viktor to Dexter's blades enough punishment for anything he had ever done that the Universe or God or whatever needed to extract more?
But now, in this instant, it is as if the universe is giving him a chance to choose…something he has so rarely had the luxury of having.
Old life or new life
Isaak is virtually unaware of the sounds of a fight going on around him because all he can see is Toron's menacing expression. It's like standing on the edge of a deep precipice and the only way across is a decrepit rope bridge…wait a minute…
Every movement around Isaak and Toron seems to slow down and freeze: this is it. This is his chance. It will not right the wrongs from his former life, but it is another way forward. He has already been given responsibilities not dissimilar than what he's had before; he is fully capable of working with a team when necessary, and then there's Jack.
Jack who is still lying at the floor at Toron's feet.
If the rope bridge in front of him is too frayed and broken to go forward…who says that he cannot go back? Back to the person he was before his life got so far out of hand and he owed so much to so many that his days grew dark, dark enough that the only light was Viktor?
Isaak's entire body is tense as he faces the Khizgaar Master. Toron tilts his head, rolls his broad shoulders and cracks his neck. The spell is broken. Isaak turns to see that Gwen and Owen are both held in place by a couple of Toron's lieutenants who are in return holding rather nasty looking handguns at their temples. Gwen's eyes are huge but Owen just looks resigned to his fate, or quite possibly bored with the entire debacle. It all happened so quickly that he missed the scuffle.
Somehow, Isaak knows he can end this.
"Will you let them go?" His voice echoes hollowly through the room. Gwen takes in a deep breath but Isaak is no longer looking at her, he is gazing directly at Toron. He takes three more steps closer to the master.
Toron turns his head from one side to the other, considering. Isaak wonders just how badly the alien wants him after all.
Isaak clears his throat, holds his hands out from his body and even goes so far as to drop the gun he is still holding. It hits the plush carpet with a soft thud. From out of nowhere, another Khizgaar soldier appears and picks it up, snarling mockingly in Isaak's face as he does so. He fights the urge to knock the soldier to the floor with a good haymaker as his eyes are torn from Toron's because Jack just moved. He shakes his head, no, maybe he didn't.
"If I concede, will you let them go?" Isaak asks again, this time with venom.
Toron laughs. "What makes you think that I would give Jack up that easily, Sirko?" He asks before kicking back with one foot and nudging Jack roughly.
Isaak turns his head and braces himself. Something about that little nudge really gets to him…something about the disrespect in that movement…
"What makes you think that I'd give up my prize just to have you along? How do I know you wouldn't turn and give all my secrets away to this universal scum?" Nudge. This time he uses the heel of his boot and Isaak can see a tiny line of red against the bottom seam of Toron's trouser leg. Nudge.
"Stop." Isaak says quietly.
Toron laughs again and the world around them explodes into motion. Gwen elbows her captor in the face but the Khizgaar growls and grabs her around the shoulder; Isaak knows she is very lucky that the soldier had better reflexes because if the trigger would have been pulled there is no telling where the projectile would have gone…or into which one of them.
Oddly, even with Gwen fighting, Owen simply stands there as if he is resigned to his fate. He has even cocked his temple toward the muzzle of the weapon resting against his head.
Isaak spins on the spot and lunges for Toron. Jack appears behind him with a revolver in his hand that he places against the back of Toron's head. There is a thin stream of already drying rust-colored blood in the center of his forehead; it has been smeared by the heel of Toron's white shoe. Isaak's attention is pulled to it until it is all he can see for about ten seconds.
In that minute space of time, the two soldiers holding Gwen and Owen drop to the ground, one with a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead and the other with a fatal wound to his temple. Later, Isaak will reflect that he was concentrating all of his energy on Toron and the surprise of Jack standing up made him completely unaware of the sound of two guns going off simultaneously from the open door that was obviously looked over as they all reacted to the scuffle.
Toron raises his hands just as John Watson calls out, "Freeze."
Isaak turns around to see John and Sherlock, side-by-side, both with guns trained on Toron. A corona of gold light encircles them and Sherlock's coat is dramatically splayed out behind him. The setting sun at their backs is caught on the end of the shiny gun Sherlock is holding as Isaak takes quick stock of the room. "There's still one m…" he starts.
He is too late, though, and the soldier that had grabbed Isaak's gun is now racing away from them, towards the back exit.
BANG.
The soldier drops three feet from the door. Isaak is amazed when Sherlock and John just look at each other and shrug, grinning like loons, apparently not minding the three dead aliens between them. Gwen laughs as she recovers her weapon, Owen apparently doing the same. Only after there are now five weapons trained on him does Toron open his mouth.
"Choose, Sirko."
"I already have." Isaak states plainly and drops to his knees as the sound of five guns being cocked fills the air.
Toron, however, has already vanished, gone in a flash of tiny green lights.
From the doorway, John and Sherlock lower their weapons to their sides. John walks deeper into the room, taking a quick note of any injuries of the Torchwood team.
Into the space where Toron has been standing only mere seconds before, Jack steps forward and holds out a hand. Isaak takes the hand and allows Jack to help him off his knees.
"Rise and shine, big man." Jack grins cheekily.
Only barely paying attention to anything else that is happening around him, Sherlock strides across the office to where the Khizgaar soldiers' bodies lie propped up against one another. He studies them carefully, kneeling down to snag something glittering against the carpet with two fingers. He only lets the ring stay in sight an instant before it is hidden in one of his coat pockets.
"What the hell?" Gwen asks the room at large, carefully switching on the safety on her gun. Owen has dropped onto the sofa; he shrugs and looks around the room, his shoulders sagging slightly. Gwen takes note of his movements, but doesn't say anything; instead she speaks into her earpiece to let Tosh—and by extension, Ianto—know that the immediate danger has passed. She listens for a few seconds and then nods, satisfied that Tosh has scanned the building and that Toron is certainly no longer in residence.
She sits down on the couch next to Owen and watches Sherlock as he crosses the room; in one hand he has his phone and the other is buried into one of the deep pockets of his coat. He stops beside John, who is probing carefully at Jack's forehead with his fingers, checking for any long-standing damage.
"I think you are going to make it, Jack."
Jack grins. "Thank you, doctor."
"John, Lestrade's got a case." Sherlock states without looking up from the screen of his phone.
"Is everything okay here then?" John asks Jack.
Jack looks over to Isaak who says nothing and makes no move to answer in any way. Jack gives him a slight nod, shrugs and says, "I would say so. Come on, guys." He gestures towards Owen and Gwen and strides in the direction of the exit.
At the door, Jack thanks Sherlock and John for all of their help. Sherlock gives a curt little head tilt, John shakes hands all around and then they are stepping out into twilight.
"I hope that wasn't incredibly dull for you," John offers as they turn in the direction of their hotel. "I can only imagine."
"No, John, not boring at all." Sherlock stops to give John the chance to catch up with him. He curls his left hand around the nape of John's neck while the right one fiddles with the ring in his pocket, deftly flipping the piece of jewelry over and over.
John laughs at that and gives his partner a hip bump. They continue on down the pavement, each man enjoying the view in his own way.