Torchwood Goes Forth
Chapter Twenty
Cardiff
If working Saturdays was unusual for the new Torchwood, working on a Sunday was even more so. Alone in the office for several hours, Gwen made a pot of coffee and retreated to her office. She sent an email to the No. 10 duty officer, copied to Kwame Olongo, informing them that the sightings were alien in origin leaving them to decide what to do with the information. Next she got the reports from the Network contacts around the world, searching for mention of a religious sect that worshipped 'The Lady' probably based in Eastern Europe. There was nothing concrete but the Greeks had included details of a rumour of something along these lines which had reached them from Romania. Gwen sent urgent requests for more details to the Network in Romania and surrounding countries and continued looking.
At 7.30, Gwen called in Lois who arrived an hour later having stopped for pastries and drinks at an all-night supermarket. Despite repeated attempts, Gwen was unable to raise Alonso. Deciding it wasn't essential to have him in the office, although his technical expertise could be needed, she eventually gave up. After briefing Lois and getting her started on a search of her own, Gwen consulted the time zone chart and rang Selwyn in Australia where it was late afternoon. She caught him at the hotel, confirmed nothing had changed his end and tore him off a strip for trusting Jack. While this made her feel better at the time, she regretted it almost immediately and sent a text to apologise. It was too early to contact Kevin and Jack was still in the air. She tried Alonso again, letting the phone ring for several minutes; he still did not answer.
"Lois, I can't get hold of Alonso," she called, walking towards Lois' office. "I'm going to – Oh, sorry." She halted in the doorway when she saw Lois was on the phone.
"I see. Yes. Hold on, please, Ms Cooper has just come into the office." Lois muted the phone. "It's No. 10. The Duty Officer passed on your message about the sightings to the Cabinet. The Church representative is up in arms. Wants to know what we're basing our information on."
"Brilliant. Who's the rep at the moment?"
"Archbishop Nichols, Catholic leader in England and Wales."
"It had to be him." The Catholic Church had a greater reverence for Mary than the other Christian denominations and were naturally going to take news the sightings were bogus harder than anyone else. "It's No. 10's problem, not ours."
"Do you mind telling them that?" Lois waved the handset hopefully.
"Okay. But I can't raise Alonso. I was going to go round there and roust him out. Can you go instead?"
"Sure."
Gwen took the handset. "Wait until I've got this lot back in their cage."
Unfortunately, smoothing ruffled feathers in No. 10 took a lot longer than Gwen had anticipated. When she and Lois had been engaged in the fruitless conversation for ten minutes, they despatched someone else to get Alonso. So it was that he was roused from his bed by Rhys pounding on his front door.
"There you are. Thought I was going to have to break the door down," said Rhys when the door finally opened. "Blimey, you look awful."
"Drank a bit too much," mumbled Alonso. He shuffled back into the flat to allow Rhys, who was carrying Daniel in his portable car seat, to follow. In the kitchen he got water from the fridge, gulping it down thirstily.
"That's pretty obvious." Rhys looked round the flat, taking in the mess that Alonso had created since Lois' tidying up and itching to do something about it. He placed the sleeping Daniel on the table. "What started you off?"
"Nothing."
"Don't believe that. Out with it."
Alonso gulped more water, emptying the bottle, while he thought about what to say. Gradually, and with prompting from Rhys, it all came out.
Since leaving the Torchwood offices the previous evening, Alonso had sat in the flat on his own with only his own thoughts for company. Gwen and Lois had listened to him, had seemed to understand that the crestinoni in the atmosphere was being removed by Irakii miners, but then had decided there was nothing to be done. Working his way through a six-pack of beer and a litre bottle of vodka, watching television even he thought inane, Alonso had become angry then depressed that they didn't understand the importance of what he had found. The crestinoni was not a renewable resource; once it was gone, it was gone. And when that happened, life on Earth would cease. Around midnight, while still in control of his faculties, Alonso had called Jack hoping to get him to talk to Gwen but when he finally got through Jack had been too busy to talk, too caught up in the signals. Despite promising to call back he had not, and Alonso, feeling even more sorry for himself, had finished the booze and fallen into bed in the early hours of the morning.
"No one's listening to me," he concluded, crushing the plastic bottle. "Even Jack's ignoring me. He said he would call and he hasn't." There was a definite pout in his words.
"He's on his way back," Rhys told him, surprised to find himself defending Jack. "Whatever those signals are sending our way will be here tomorrow. Right here, in Cardiff, and Jack's flying back to be ready for it."
"For it, not for me. Or for the drug smuggling." Frustrated, Alonso threw the crushed bottle across the room.
Rhys shrugged. "That's Jack. He focuses on the most important problem and expects everyone to understand, it's never the other way round. Look, Gwen's had to go into work and she asked me to come and get you. She needs you, Alonso, and I promise I'll get her to listen to you about the drug stuff. Will you come?"
"I suppose."
"Good lad. Go and get washed and dressed then. Want some breakfast? I could do you something."
"Okay." Alonso slouched out of the room, a little heartened at hearing Jack was coming home but still unhappy.
-ooOoo-
Mandurah, Australia
The sun was setting as Selwyn arrived back at Point Birch, driven by one of Mark's colleagues. The scene had changed in his few hours away. A generator throbbed rhythmically. Floodlights had been rigged up and one was already on, illuminating the five RVs brought in to give the guards and visitors somewhere to sleep. Two large plastic tables and some chairs were placed next to a makeshift barbecue; three men were eating grilled prawns while drinking from cans. A large refrigerator added its electric hum to the noise. Almost hidden from sight, and nearer the water's edge, was the concrete bunker, the focus of this activity. Beyond patches of tall reeds and backlit by the setting sun, two motorboats rested at anchor a few metres from shore.
Mark Tang walked out of the group and met Selwyn. "You're in here with me." He gestured to the nearest RV. "Dump your things and come get something from the barbie."
"Thanks." Selwyn put a small duffel bag, bought in the hotel shop, containing his overnight things in the RV. The vehicle was well-appointed with two narrow single beds, a small seating area and toilet and shower. This would be home until events reached their conclusion in Cardiff in about twenty eight hours' time. Joining the others, he asked, "Anything been happening here?"
"Nope, quiet as can be. Beer?" Mark held out a can.
"I'll check the cone first. Everyone keeping well back from the water?"
"Yes." The reply was more a sigh than a word.
"It's important, Mark," stressed Selwyn, facing him. "There's been one death in the Falklands and a guy's in the hospital in Russia. I don't want that here."
"I know." Mark didn't feel it necessary to apologise. He and his colleagues knew their job and had heard and understood the warning, Selwyn didn't need to repeat it so often.
"Okay."
In the bunker, always guarded by an armed ASIO agent, Selwyn checked the cone and his laptop, left open alongside. The signal was still being transmitted and all the readings were as they had been. Changing the co-ordinates did not appear to have upset the countdown. He remembered Gwen's tongue-lashing for going along with Jack on that and cringed. He had deserved it, had known that Jack was a maverick who went this own way, and yet he had blindly followed his lead. Gwen's generous apology later only strengthened Selwyn's resolve never to be disloyal in that way again. He wondered what arrangements she was making in Cardiff and wished again that she had accepted his offer to return; if Vasili Karenchenko could be trusted to watch over the cone in Irkutsk, Mark Tang could do the same here at Mandurah. Gwen, however, had thought otherwise and insisted Selwyn remain where he was.
Leaving the bunker, he joined the other men and two women gathering round the barbecue. If he had to be stuck somewhere far from the action at least this place had all the facilities one needed.
-ooOoo-
Cardiff
Alonso rode with Rhys and Daniel to the Torchwood base leaving the Espace at the Penarth apartment. Turning the last corner, Rhys called Gwen and asked that for the gate to be opened but still had to wait a few minutes. As they waited, Alonso leant over from the back entertaining the gurgling baby who was in his backward-facing chair on the front seat.
"You let me talk to Gwen, all right?" said Rhys. "Don't go off half-cocked, it'll only start an argument. I know how to handle her." He had many years' practice.
"If you say so." Having shared his problem and eaten a good breakfast – his hangovers never put him off food - Alonso felt better but he underneath he was still smarting from being ignored.
The gates finally opened and Rhys drove through and parked. Together the two men unloaded Daniel and the bags of baby paraphernalia and walked into the building. They dumped the bags in Selwyn's room and joined Gwen and Lois in the former's office.
"Typical, world's about to end and you've still got time for coffee," said Rhys putting Daniel, still in his chair, on the meeting table.
"We've earnt it." Gwen rose and came to the baby. "Hello, sweetheart, come and cheer up Mummy." She deftly undid the restraining straps and picked him up. "Did you find Alonso?"
"Yeah, he's right … Well, he was right behind me. 'Lonso? Where've you gone, mate?" Rhys peered into the corridor. Empty.
"He's probably in the workshop," said Lois. "I'll go and find him. Would you like a coffee, Rhys?"
"Please." He closed the door after her and turned to Gwen, back in her chair bouncing Daniel on her knee. "We need to talk," he said, taking the chair Lois had been using.
"I know. You won't believe it but No. 10 is only wanting us to deny the existence of the signals, ignore the invasion or whatever it is that's coming and stop liaising with the Network. Have they learnt nothing! And do you know why? Because the religious leaders don't like it that the sightings of Mary are fake. I mean, who runs the country?"
"That's not what I want to talk about. Alonso's upset. Got pissed last night because you aren't listening to him. Here, wipe his chin." He held out a muslin square.
Wiping the small amount of milky sick from her son's chin, Gwen said, "I have been a bit busy you know."
"I know, but this drug thing sounds important. According to Alonso it'll wipe out life on Earth and you're just ignoring it."
"I am not! We talked about it last night." She was defensive, surprised Rhys was so determined.
"Well he says you're not doing anything and you should be," said Rhys seriously. "The whole thing sounds bloody dangerous to me. I'm going to find him, and that coffee." He left the office.
Gwen stared after him until Daniel stared to grizzle for attention. Grateful for the diversion, she fussed over him while considering what Rhys had said. It was rare for her husband to take a stand on anything. Rhys was easy-going and amenable to most things which did not make him a doormat, far from it, but he usually took the path of least resistance especially where Gwen was concerned. For him to confront her like this made her anxious. Had she really missed a trick with the drug connection? The signals appeared much more serious, more urgent anyway. Jack had said the crestinoni depletion would not come to a head for a while – was he wrong? She had listened to Alonso the previous night but had she heard what he was trying to say? Was her phobia for anything technical getting in the way of her understanding the problem?
Standing, she went to the window. Daniel quietened, watching the play of light and the scudding clouds. They would probably have more rain before the day was out. Gwen felt very alone. Being the boss was isolating but until now the decisions she had been called upon to make were routine. Faced with two potentially devastating threats to Earth's security, had she made the wrong call? She wished Owen were here to sarkily tell her off, Toshiko to find an ingenious technical solution and Ianto to make a dry comment that put everything into perspective. But most of all, she wished Jack were here and she was no longer in charge. He made these decisions look so easy, even when they meant the death of people he loved. People she loved … That was something else she had to talk to Rhys about.
Rhys came back into the office, a reluctant Alonso in tow. "I've brought Alonso so we can have a proper talk. Let me have Danny, you need to concentrate."
"Okay." She meekly passed the baby to Rhys and gestured Alonso to join her at the meeting table. "I'm sorry if I've upset you, Alonso. Tell me what I'm missing."
Alonso glanced at Rhys who nodded encouragingly, then launched into his complaint. "It's like I told you. The crestinoni is being harvested by Irakii scavengers. They've got a load in Sector 14 almost ready to go. They could be here any minute. If you don't do something they'll be gone before you can catch them." He looked up as Lois entered the room with a tray of coffees and felt heartened; she believed him.
"But like I told you last night," began Gwen, "I don't have spaceships of my own to catch these Irakiis. I'll have to involve UNIT and they'll need solid evidence before they act." The loss of the Valiant when the Daleks had moved Earth had made UNIT wary of risking their sole remaining ship, the Ark Royal, without good cause.
"She's right," said Lois. "We'll need to prove that the Irakiis are on their way or better still here before UNIT will move. Can your scanners pick up their ships' signatures?"
"Yes." His face lit up. "Yes, they can. I can scan around Sector 14, see what's going on."
"In the meantime, we could contact Brigadier Burke-Tarkleton." Lois looked enquiringly at Gwen. "If we gave him an unofficial heads-up, they would be able to respond quickly when we need them."
"Do it. He seems friendly enough." Gwen laid a hand on Alonso's and met his gaze. "We are taking you seriously, Alonso. Please don't think we're not."
"Thank you. Sorry if I was a bit … pushy. I'll go and set up the scanner." He moved his chair back and stood. "Thanks, Rhys."
"No problem but I do have one question before you go." They all looked at him. "Where is this Sector 14? 'Cos if it's bloody well over Wales, I'll scream."
-ooOoo-
Moscow, Russia
An icy blast of sleety snow greeted Jack as he emerged from Domodevo Airport. Five centimetres of snow lay on the ground, churned up by the baggage carts and other service vehicles. With his greatcoat fully buttoned and the flaps of his recently acquired fur hat down over his ears, Jack kept his head bowed and headed away from the baggage handlers and round the side of the building. His flight had landed early and in the mass of disembarking passengers he had managed to avoid the FSB handlers waiting for him. It might be foolish, but Jack wanted a few hours of freedom before he had to make his next connection. That was also why he did not call Gwen; she was only going to shout at him.
Dodging anyone who might challenge him, he attached himself to the rear of a group of workers and walked out through the gate without being stopped. After walking for twenty minutes, he reached a residential area and ducked into a cheap restaurant for a late lunch. His Russian was good enough to order borscht and vodka, taking a corner table at the back of the room where he could use his laptop without being observed. He stayed there for two hours, fortified by the food and excellent vodka, and checked all the information Gwen had sent him – she may be angry but she was still keeping him in the loop – before doing some serious research of his own. The additional programs he had had Kevin load into the laptop came in very handy when he wanted to get into records others would rather keep private. By the time he left the restaurant, he had a much clearer idea of what was likely to arrive in Cardiff in just over twenty four hours.
Now all he had to do was figure out how to deal with it.