Johnnie went over what he and the pair discovered. Compiling his notes for his numerous articles, Johnnie noted that they'd have better chance if they had photo and video proof, which of course the pair couldn't get on the account of Ripley's warnings.
She stressed heavily during the interview, capturing photos with flash on in the presence of a Drekker wouldn't end well, they do not like light and bright flashes from cameras especially.
Videos, even the night vision proved difficult to catch them properly because of their blackness.
"I don't even know how to spin this," Johnnie held his hands under his chin.
It's not as easy as an environmental piece and he didn't even know where to begin.
Ripley gave him a suggestion.
"Spin it this way, if Cassandra doesn't take the black and remove herself and her agency, you're going to expose her for what she really is," she said.
If she's like the others, she'll want Johnnie to not report that she allowed tarry fiends into her city and let them kill people based on their health.
"What if she doesn't?" Johnnie brought up the chance that Cassandra calls his bluff and won't give up her position.
Ripley let Johnnie in on a secret.
"Trust me, just name her in your little piece, within twenty-four hours, she'll be out of her office even before the janitor clocks in," Ripley summed what'll happen the moment that Johnnie publishes his piece.
Officials above Cassandra have sensitive antennas and the moment they find out she unintentionally exposed the world to the Drekker's existence, it wouldn't take long for them to disbar her and do everything the can to drag her name through the mud.
By the time that Cassandra's head stopped spinning, she wouldn't have anything left to her name, and if she's lucky, they'll give her the side eye.
"How far does this go?" Johnnie's curious on how many people know about the Drekker and Ripley estimated.
"Could be as high as the monarchy for all we know," Ripley shrugged.
In an endless cycle, politicians, police, monarchs, the whole nines, blackmailed each other over the existence of the Drekker, but even then, none of them willing to expose the truth.
It doesn't take a genius to know what happens when the world finds out their governments subjected people to painful deaths, in an attempt to cull the sick, and there's only one thing that'll happen if the world found out that they're complacent for their selfish gain.
Hint: Gallows.
"So, what you're saying, blackmail her to stepping down," Johnnie summed and Ripley nodded.
Matt added that Cassandra wouldn't want her name out in the open attached to the piece and might take the deal without thinking.
"But there's still a problem. Even if we can get rid of her, there's still the… Drek-ker," Johnnie pointed out.
While Cassandra fled the position, she fought to claim in an attempt to avoid the backlash of a century, it still didn't help with the real problem.
Ripley sighed as she admitted that at best, the Big One moves on with his flock, the threat of bushfires might've been enough to send them flying if they're that bad and the city's at risk.
"I can't guarantee they won't return. It's like migratory birds, they find a spot to buckle down for the season and when the season ends, they leave. When the season starts, again, there's a strong possibility that they might come back," Ripley gestured.
Matt noted that the public probably won't believe that the Drekker exist and tarnish Johnnie's name.
He suggested that Johnnie have the piece passed along to a tabloid editor and have them run it. The public won't think of nothing more than rubbish, but those in the know might get antsy.
Johnnie mentioned he has a friend in a local tabloid editor's room and that he could take a crack passing the piece along to her.
Two for one.
Pass along the details about the Drekker to the tabloid and Johnnie provide damning reports and proof that Cassandra's willing to let people die and her agency's unchecked.
Reminding them that they don't have any physical proof of the Drekker's existence, Johnnie's told that Cassandra would've had countless footage and pictures on them.
"Mr. Goode, I'm not going to lie to you. When that piece publishes, I suggest you and your friend take leave. Change your names, your everything, and don't look back. A lot of people are riding on the ignorance of the public and they'll be looking for you and your friend when they find out," Ripley cautioned Johnnie that when the piece's inevitably passed along, he'll need to drop everything.
His life's forever changed the moment the ink sets.
Johnnie told her that he did't get into journalism just to limp away from threats. He told her that he's protected by the First Amendment and Ripley said, "Mr. Goode, believe me when I say, prepare for unforeseen consequences."
Even if Johnnie's protected from prosecution for leaking the Drekker's existence by law, it wouldn't stop those in the know.
Maybe they can't touch him legally, but it won't stop them from trying something else. Enough guilty parties exist that they'll work together to make sure Johnnie can't get work on the whole planet.
"You know, might go a step further with this," Johnnie got an idea on how to really get under the skin of Cassandra and people who knew about the Drekker.
He told the pair that his publisher's dabbling about putting the news on the internet. With the right format, if the powers try to censor his articles, the uncensored versions would spread like wildfire on the internet.
"Trust me, kids'll have everything posted ten times over and they got some websites you can't access normally," Johnnie brought up the idea that his articles go underground on the internet.
Nodding, Ripley told him to be sure to scrub everything when he's done.
With their piece said, Johnnie poured himself another drink and shook his head.
"In the twenty-five years I've been at this job, I never thought it'd lead up to this. I've done articles on police brutality, riots, corruption, but this, this is beyond my scope. Our own government, willing to let these things kill anyone sick. Bet you they're responsible for those deaths over at the red-light district," Johnnie frowned as he described the incidents in the infamous red-light district.
Johns, prostitutes, you name them, there were eerily similar deaths. Police said it was a serial killer, but someone found a half-eaten liver lying in the street. Again, police said it was dogs, but it didn't look like it.
"Yeah, that'll do it," Ripley gave an acknowledging nod.
The seediness, the stigma, the infamous free love, bound to attract the Drekker. Even if treated, they'll still smell whatever someone caught. It's worse for those unaware of their contracted diseases, a black comedy almost.
Standing up, Johnnie saw the pair off.
"I'll look into it and see what I can drum up," Johnnie told the pair he planned to find more details and the like. He stopped when he asked where he may find the pair.
Matt happily told him where to find them and Johnnie's bemused when he's told to find a British blue police box in an alleyway.
Ripley added that it's a lot weirder saying it out loud but, yes, the blue police box that's seemingly out of place.
"I'll let you know if I find out anything," Johnnie's raising a brow at the fact that the pair told him to find them in a police box, but they've just told him Drekker exist. So, it's expected.
He thanked them for their time and led them out of his office.
The interview's done for now and Johnnie planned to investigate Cinderwood, any locations that Drekker would've nested, and just where the rabbit hole leads to in how many people knew these tarry fiends exist.
Walking out of the building with his hands in his pockets, Matt chewed on the bottom of his lip.
He pondered as he asked, "Where do you think they came from?"
Knowing that rifts existed, it's no surprise that Drekker seemingly walked through them and wind up in completely different universes. However, their origins, well, Ripley didn't know conclusively, neither did Victor, and they're never going to find the information.
Sabbek and Drekker weren't talkative types.
"I just know that at some point in time, they were you and me, and that they're turned into monstrous things that don't recognize humans as equals," Ripley frowned.
As she knows, they didn't reproduce sexually, asexually, or anything of the sort, they propagate their species by kidnapping chosen humans and turn them. A process that no one's witnessed, not even the Children.
It's hard to say if they existed naturally or someone's experiment gotten ahead of themselves and got out into the world.
"If we go to Cassandra now, she'll stonewall us," Matt sighed as he suggested they don't visit Cassandra, yet.
If they go now, without proof outside Ripley's word, Cassandra can claim innocence. With enough proof, she won't be able to claim even so much as ignorance.
"Well, what're we supposed to do in the mean time?" Ripely asked him.
Matt rubbed his chin as he pondered and he mentioned that they haven't eaten since morning, in their world, and if they're going to do a lot of running, then they'd need some protein.
"Guess that's the way of the Doctor. Even when faced with things that stink of literal death, you're hungry," Ripley's amused that Matt's willing to eat despite the fact that they're dealing with tarry fiends whose only hygiene involved washing their blackened bodies with pools of water any given amount of time.
"Well, you learn," Matt shrugged.
If he'd eaten last night, he'd lost it with the smell of the dead body and the musk.
Today's a new day and it's been a while so the smell's not bothering him anymore.
Shaking her head, Ripley mused that he's lucky he runs so much or else he'd be weighed down.
"Come on, I'm sure we'll find something," Matt raised his elbow and Ripley linked her arm around it, walking with him.
They walked until they found a restaurant by the water and the light from the sun shined through the building as they sat near the window.
Matt mused that it's beautiful, better than the gloomy grey sky back home that darkened to the point that he'd have his lamp on because it's dark in his flat.
Looking through the menu, the pair ordered drinks. As they waited, Ripley asked Matt to do something for her.
"You know that cologne you bought from the department store?" Ripley began.
Matt remembered it.
One day, he received a gift card for a department store nearby from one of his mates. He lived in an area that didn't have it and thought Matt could use it.
Matt spent it on some cologne he found and liked.
Helps that Ripley liked it, too, he's worn it countless times on their dates.
"Yeah?" Matt blinked as he wondered where she was going with it.
Ripley said, "It contains rosemary, don't it?"
It's one of those cologne made with less ingredients than the usual ones and listed rosemary extract in it's ingredients.
Getting an idea, Matt nodded.
"Make sure you put more on when we're out at night," Ripley cautioned him.
The Drekker have a natural aversion to it so, in her thinking, if Matt wears his cologne, they won't bother him. Rather, they'd prefer to avoid him.
Matt smiled as he lightly touched her left hand.
"I'll be fine," he tells her.
Ripley's concerned and he rubbed her hand, comforting her.
"I know… it's just… they lumber a lot but when they're hungry or angry, they just turn into cheetahs with wings," Ripley feared the Drekker hurting Matt.
Make no mistake, Drekker move slow and methodically, lumbering on the ground, but from zero to hundred, they pick up speed when chasing.
"Trust me, I'm the Doctor," Matt squeezes her hand, getting her attention.
He assured Ripley that when they return to the TARDIS, he'll put more cologne on. Remembering, Matt reminded her to put on the lotion she kept in the TARDIS. It'd contain rosemary, as well.
It'll ease Matt's mind as well, knowing she'd take precaution, too.
Nodding, Ripley told him she will when they get back.
"What do we do in the meantime?" Matt wondered since they couldn't do much.
The city has another scheduled outage tonight.
Johnnie needed time to compile evidence to use against Cassandra.
Matt didn't want them outside in the night, so that means they couldn't investigate on their own without worrying about coming across the Drekker.
"Well, there's still daylight, suppose we'd just spend time doing what we'd normally do," Ripley suggested.
Time to time when they're on dates, they'd walk around New London. Just something to past the time when they couldn't do anything else.
It's cheesy, but it's something the pair did.
Matt agreed with her plan.
Their drinks arrived and they ordered their appetizers.
As they waited, the pair discussed things on their mind.
"It's weird," Matt mused as he looked around.
The gang weren't strangers to conspiracies and the like, they're the cornerstones of their adventures, but they're usually in a futuristic setting.
Here they are, on another conspiracy, and this time, it's in a city by the bay, not a station, satellite, or other.
Ripley sighed as she pulled her drink closer, saying, "It usually is."
Matt wondered what'll happen to Cassandra after all this and Ripley summed that if she's lucky, exile. If not, she'll become the next fall guy in a long list of fall guys for those who don't want the public to know they're the ones that approved of Cassandra's plans.
"I hope Johnnie's lucky," Ripley frowned.
Johnnie might have years under his belt, but this is something beyond corruption, it goes in deeper than that.
When the powers find out he's the one who whistled, law or not, they'll find ways to discredit him or worse.
It wouldn't surprise her if they don't just try to use the Drekker to kill him.
Like she said, it's happened, and if Johnnie has a clean bill of health, they'll find ways to make sure their plan works.
Matt comforted her as he reminded her that Johnnie would've made sure they couldn't win.
Ripley sighed as she said, "Perhaps, you're right."
Their appetizers arrived and they ordered their entrées next.
As they ate, Matt asked Ripley a question.
"So, on the off chance I'm somehow in the same space as them," Matt began. "What do I do?"
Ripley made it clear that everyone stays as far as humanely possible away from the Drekker as they can.
However, she never said what to do if there's a chance someone accidentally runs into them, outside the usual warning that they'll die horribly.
Ripley didn't want people to get stupid and try funny things if she told Johnnie what to do if faced with a Drekker or the entire flock.
Replying as she thumbed through knowledge, she obtained from listening in on conversations, Ripley told Matt.
"If you're in the same space as them and you're definitely not sick and they're not attacking you. Don't talk or make any noise, make sudden movements, go near them, flash any lights, and when you do move, make sure it's slow. And, don't look them in the eye, especially the Big One," Ripley summed.
Treat them like a wild animal… that actively hunts sickly animals exclusively.
Ripley knows Matt wasn't sick, so they won't bother him, but they'd react to him negatively if they felt threatened.
It'll be hard, but Matt couldn't look them in the eyes. As much as he naturally wanted, he shouldn't. They'll start watching his movements, then, and if he makes the mistake of doing it to the Big One, he could try to "bluff" Matt.
Like elephants, he'll charge at Matt, just to see what he'll do and if Matt accidentally hits him or does something that connotes violence, the Big One takes it as a sign of aggression.
"Just keep your head down and… pray," Ripley stuck her mozzarella stick in the marinara as she told Matt the gist of it.
It's hard to solve this conspiracy when the adversaries are unknown entities that originate from humans from an unknown world that if wounded or killed, set off chain reactions that resulted in the decimation of their lives as they know it.
"The only way I can see him moving his flock, permanently, if the whole city burns," Ripley swirled the mozzarella stick in the marinara as she's caught in deep thoughts.
Not the ideal solution.
"Why not grow rosemary?" Matt bit into his mozzarella stick. As he pulled it away from his mouth, the long strand of mozzarella elongated as he tried to break it off.
The garden he visited in Scotland's completely overgrown with the plant, there's always a possibility the city grows them everywhere, even on the rooftops.
With the longer daylights, they ought to grow quick, and during the outages, they're still capable of warding off the Drekker.
"Could work," Ripley sighed as she bit into her mozzarella stick. As she pulled it away from her face, she noticed she had a dollop of marinara sauce on her nose.
Matt got a chuckle as he helped wipe it off her nose. He cheekily asked if she'll help them find their way in the night and Ripley rolled her eyes.
"Why did I tell you about that?" Ripley sighed.