Chapter 3

Busy Morning At The Office

The Smith's Residence.

Northumberland Place.

Notting Hill, London.

Wednesday 25th September.

06:30.

Grunts of pleasure and groans of satisfaction emanated from the steam filled shower cubicle of the en suite bathroom, with an accompaniment of a squeaking bare bottom on the tiled cubicle, as Doctor John Smith held his wife Rose up against the wall of the cubicle. She had her strong, shapely legs wrapped around his waist as she ran her fingers through his hair, gripping it to pull him into a fierce, passionate kiss. They both gasped and let out squeaks as they climaxed.

'Mmmmmm. Thank you,' Rose said, as she unwrapped her legs from around him.

'And thank you,' John breathed in her ear.

'Have you decided what clothes you're gonna take with you on the trip?' she asked as they washed each other's bodies with shower gel.

'I'll just throw a couple of things into a bag,' he replied in a typical "bloke-ish" kind of way.

'You will not!' she told him as she worked the gel into his private regions. 'You'll need your dinner suit for a start. There's a formal dinner with the ship's captain.'

'Oh there isn't is there?' John groaned. 'You know what happens when I wear that dinner suit.'

'Yeah. You get me all horny,' she replied with a wicked grin.

'Really?' He made sure her breasts had plenty of shower gel rubbed over them.

'Uh-huh. That "old universe" suit might have been jinxed, but this "Pete's World" suit is . . . sexy.'

'Sexy?' He sniffed and raised his eyebrows. 'In that case, I look forward dining with you at the captain's table Misses Smith.' He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. 'But I don't know what you're worrying about, there's plenty of time yet.'

Her fingers stopped massaging his scalp mid wash. 'John. It's Wednesday today. The flight is on Saturday. I've already got the kids cases packed. My case is nearly done, and yours . . ?'

'. . . Will be packed and ready to go by Friday. I promise,' he said with his boyish smile as he turned her around and held her hair like a rope to rinse the lather out.

'Hmm. Okay then,' she said doubtfully.

He nibbled her ear from behind and whispered, 'why don't you pick up the bar of soap?'

'There isn't a bar of soap.'

'I know,' he replied with a waggle of his eyebrows.

'Oh. Right,' Rose said with a giggle, and proceeded to bend forwards to pick up the non existent bar of soap and extend the rather enjoyable recreational shower.

Torchwood Special Operations Supervisor's Office.

Torchwood Tower, Canary Wharf.

08:22.

['Watch supervisor to the Despatch Office A.S.A.P . . . Repeat. Watch supervisor to the Despatch Office A.S.A.P.] Jake "The Peg" Simmonds called over the intercom.

Rose, who happened to be the Blue Watch Supervisor, had just sat down at her desk with a cup of tea from the Standby kitchenette, after giving the start-of-shift briefing. She was wearing her Torchwood dress uniform of knee length black skirt, white blouse with neck tab, and her black, Giuseppe Zanotti calf length boots. Her smart, black jacket was hung over the back of her swivel chair.

She rolled her eyes and thought "typical. Just sit down to do some paperwork after handing out assignments and another job comes in". She stood up and slipped her jacket over her shoulders before taking a sip of her tea and taking it with her. Camera director Matt Jackson, filmed her from the Standby Room as she headed for the Despatch Office, before following her inside.

'Whatcha got for me Jakey?' she asked as she walked into the hi-tech Despatch Office.

'Ah, Rose. I've got a call holding from a Colonel Erisa Magambo from UNIT.'

That name evoked memories from over a decade ago for Rose, when an alternate reality had formed around Donna Noble, and a UNIT officer had helped her to change it back. Those events had ultimately led to her and John being together now.

'Thanks Jake. Put her through,' Rose said as she put on a headset. 'Mornin' Colonel. Rose Smith, Watch Supervisor. How can I help?'

['Hello Rose. My name is Erisa, and I'll get straight to the point. We have a . . . situation at one of our research facilities out in Hampshire,'] the colonel told her.

'What kind of situation?' Rose asked, thinking that it would have to be pretty serious that UNIT couldn't handle it.

['We don't know,'] Erisa replied honestly. ['We had contact with The Grange at 22:00 last night. At 07:00 this morning, a communications officer tried to contact them on the secure phone line and got no response. She then tried radio and mobile phone with no success.']

Rose muted the call momentarily. 'Jake. Check telecommunications in Hampshire. See if there have been any reports of equipment problems, engineer call outs, stuff like that.'

Jake started to investigate as Rose reconnected the call. 'By the name of it, I'm presuming The Grange is out in the middle of nowhere doin' some hush-hush kinda research. Could it be equipment failure or bad reception?'

['That was our first thought, so we dispatched a team to investigate,'] Erisa explained.

'And what did they find?' Rose asked.

['Er, again, we don't. As far as we know, they reached Dunwich where The Grange is located, but then lost contact with them. When we have unexplained situations like this, our protocol is . . .']

'To call Torchwood,' Rose finished for her. 'Okay Erisa. I'll despatch a team out straight away. I'll also see if we can access any satellite imaging over the area.'

['Thank you Rose. I'll be here in my office monitoring comms,'] Erisa informed her.

'Okay. Speak soon.' Rose ended the call and removed the headset. 'Jake. See if you can find a satellite over Hampshire.'

'Okay Rose, but you might want to take this call first,' said Jake.

'Who is it?' Rose asked, slightly impatiently. She had to get a team out to Hampshire.

'A Sir John Tenby. Chief Constable of Hampshire,' Jake said with a smug smile.

Rose put the headset back on and nodded at Jake to connect the call.

'Hello Chief Constable. I'm Rose Smith, Watch Supervisor. How can I help you?'

['Ah, Mrs Smith. Good morning. Sorry to trouble you, but I've had some reports from my officers in Trayne that there are some odd goings on in a neighbouring village,'] the Chief Constable informed her.

'It wouldn't happen to be a little out-of-the-way place called Dunwich by any chance?' Rose asked.

['Good Lord! I've heard of the reputation of the Institute, but that is incredible,'] Sir John exclaimed in amazement.

Rose gave a single laugh. 'It's only because we've had a call from another concerned party. Have you got any details of the odd goings on Sir John, because we've got scant information on what's happening out there.' Once again, Rose muted the call and asked Jake to mobilise the Watch.

['Of course Rose. Residents in Oppley reported a house on fire in Dunwich, with, apparently, nothing being done about it. The Trayne fire appliance turned out and thereafter failed to make any reports. The Trayne police despatched a car to find out what had happened to the fire-engine, and that, too, vanished into silence. Oppley reported a second fire, and still, seemingly, nothing being done, Constable Gobby, in Stouch, was contacted, and sent off on his bicycle to Dunwich; and no more was heard of him either,'] the Chief Constable reported.

'There was an old woman who swallowed a fly,' Jake sang without humour.

'Excuse me a moment Sir John,' Rose interrupted. 'Jake. Call a Code Red. Get a team over there right now. Full Emergency Protocol . . . Sorry about that, please continue.'

['No. Thank you for your response Rose. We have just received notification from Trayne Travel bus company that the last bus from Trayne, calling at Stouch, Oppley, and Dunwich, never made it to Hickham. Also, the bus which should have passed through Dunwich on the school run this morning, failed to reach the school at Oppley. A truck that went to look for the bus did not return.']

Before Rose could reply, Jake interrupted. 'Rose. Sorry to interrupt, but this is important.'

'What have you got?' Rose asked, wondering how her morning could get any worse.

'Mobile phone calls from a British Telecom engineer and Post Office delivery driver. The road into Dunwich from Oppley and Hickham are littered with vehicles. A fire-engine in a ditch. A bus, a recovery truck, and an online shopping delivery van on one road. Another bus, a military lorry, a local bread delivery van, and a mountain bike on the other,' Jake reported.

'Any signs of assailants, weapons or casualties?' Rose enquired.

Jake checked the transcripts. 'Er . . . A police constable wearing a cycle helmet lying unmoving on the grass verge. Condition unknown. Passengers on the bus. Not moving. Condition unknown. The workmate of the BT engineer who called the emergency services, collapsed when he approached the bus to investigate. Condition unknown. No signs of weapons fire or explosions.'

'Thanks Jake. Did you get that Sir John?' Rose said.

['Yes Rose. I heard that. We're cordoning off the area. Please ask your teams to take care.']

'Don't worry. We're goin' tooled up and are gonna throw everythin' we have at it. I'll keep you apprised.'

['Thank you.']

The call ended, and Rose blew out her cheeks. It had been a while since the Institute had had a morning like this.

['Rose? Is everything all right?'] her husband asked in her head. He'd picked up on her stress levels as he did the school run.

John was part Human, and part Gallifreyan, and had given his wife telepathic abilities when they bonded after their wedding. He had given her the gift of understanding the language of the Time Lords, and with that came the unexpected bonus of being able to communicate by thought.

['Yeah. There's a UNIT research facility in Hampshire that has gone silent. Nothing's getting in or out of the village. We're gonna need your input on this one Love.']

['Okay. We're just getting into the car now to go to school. Put the kettle on, I'll be there soon.']

Rose visibly relaxed and smiled to herself. ['Thanks love. See you soon.']

Oppley Road, Dunwich.

Hampshire.

09:42.

The six wheeled Mobile Incident Vehicle sped along Oppley Road towards the village of Dunwich. It was really a country lane, but two vehicles could pass with care. With its siren and blue lights, the team had made good time along the motorways and "A" roads from London. A few hundred yards ahead, "Welsh" Pete Davies saw the blue and yellow battenburg pattern of a police patrol car blocking the road. There were a number of people standing around, presumably locals who were concerned about the people in Dunwich.

Pete slowed the MIV to a stop and lowered the window.

'Morning Sir,' the young officer said as he approached the imposing looking vehicle. 'You must be the team from Torchwood.'

'Look! It's those people off the telly,' one of the bystanders announced.

'Oh yeah. They'll soon sort it out,' said another.

'That's right. What can you tell us?' Pete asked in his Welsh Valleys accent. He waved at the bystanders as they took pictures with their mobile phones.

The officer pointed past his car. 'Just down the lane there, it bends to the left and you'll see the collection of vehicles. We know that the chap lying there in the BT overalls was walking slowly when he collapsed, so he seems to define the edge of whatever it is that's causing all this.'

'Okay, thanks for that. If you can let us through, we'll go take a look,' Pete said.

'Right you are,' the officer said and climbed into his vehicle. He reversed it into the gateway of a field whilst the MIV silently rolled past. The car then drove forward again to restore the road drove past the white sign with black lettering which said:

DUNWICH.

Please drive carefully through the village.

'Blimey! Would you look at that,' "Other Craig" Owens said as he looked at the video feed to the rows of flat screen monitors above the narrow control desk on the right hand side of the vehicle. The agents were sitting on a row of seats that faced the monitors. As the road narrowed into a single track road, the vehicles could be seen scattered across the lane.

'Reminds me of a war zone,' Stuart "Irish" Sinclair said.

Before joining Torchwood, he'd been a private with UNIT and had been posted to Eastern Europe to help mediations during a civil war. The Torchwood documentary Camera Director Will Hustler, who was travelling with them, agreed with him, having filmed the conflict when he was a news cameraman.

Pete parked the MIV, and clambered into the back to sit at the control desk. 'Right. First things first. Let's get a "Fly" in the air.'

A small dome, the size of a tennis ball, opened on the roof of the MIV, and a small, fly sized drone took to the air. Pete flew it to the fallen BT engineer and studied the telemetry.

'Ah. He's alive!' Pete called out. The team breathed sighs of relief and expressed their delight. 'Heart rate, 42 beats a minute. Respiration, 12 breaths a minute. Core body temperature, 36 degrees Celsius . . . Are you getting this Doc?'

John was monitoring the telemetry remotely in the Communications Hub of the Special Operations Unit. ['Yeah, I'm getting it. It's good news that he's still alive. He's a bit cold, but it is September. What's the weather like there?']

'Cold with a mist,' Pete reported.

['Right. So these readings make it look like he's in a coma.']

'A coma?' Amy "Legs" Williams queried. 'What would put people into a coma?'

['A number of drugs and gases. Narcoleptic seizures. Light stimulated epilepsy and other neurological conditions,'] John reeled off.

'Okay. Let's check the other vehicles then,' Pete said, and steered the "Spy-Fly" to the bus.

It was difficult to get accurate readings through the glass windows, but they could tell that the passengers and driver were alive. The same was true of the UNIT soldiers in the truck, and the bread delivery driver. The one that gave them concern was the police officer who had cycled to the scene. They found him lying on the damp grass verge, his body temperature close to hypothermic.

'We've got to help him,' Amy said with concern.

'But how?' Pete asked. 'Look what happened to the BT guy.'

'But we've got state-of-the-art protection and monitoring equipment,' Amy reasoned.

Pete looked unsure. Amy was right, but they didn't know what they were dealing with. Would their equipment be enough? He decided to defer the decision to a higher authority.

'Doc? Have you seen the readings on the police officer? We need to do something, and quickly.'

['Yeah, I've seen them. The damp grass and mist is causing him to lose heat faster than the others.'] It was one of those situations where you were damned if you took action and it went wrong, and damned if you did nothing and let a person die.

['The "Fly" hasn't detected any airborne chemical or biological agents. However, that doesn't mean there aren't any. There don't seem to be any optical, sonic or electromagnetic emissions that could affect the nervous system . . .'] There was a long pause as he contemplated his options. ['Okay. One volunteer with sealed full body armour to make an attempt to rescue the police officer.']

'Thanks Doc,' Pete said with relief.

'I'll go,' Amy said, climbing out of her seat before anyone else could volunteer. 'I've got my kit on anyway and all I have to do is seal my helmet.'

Her field partner Craig looked at her with concern. 'Are you sure Legs? I don't mind going y'know.'

Amy would normally give him a playfully sarcastic reply, but seeing the concern in his eyes, and feeling the butterflies in her stomach, she just smiled and stroked his cheek.

'No. I'm sure,' she replied. She took a swig of water from her bottle, and Craig lowered her helmet visor, locking it in position.

She activated the suit from her wrist panel, and there was a hiss of oxygen filling the body armour.

'See you later,' Craig said with a forced smile.

['Not if I see you first,'] Amy replied through the suit intercom, giving him a nervous grin.

Pete lowered the rear door of the MIV, letting in the damp Autumnal air. Amy walked down the ramp and around the side of the MIV, whilst the team watched her on the external cameras. She prepared her SA80 assault rifle for firing and slowly approached the BT engineer, stopping about a body's length away.

['I'll make a dash to the police officer and get him out, and then I'll come back for the engineer,'] Amy told them.

'Copy that Amy. Good luck.'

They watched with held breath as Amy sprinted across the lane towards the grass verge where the officer lay. They all gasped in disbelief as they saw her pitch forwards as though she had stumbled. But she hadn't stumbled. She didn't try to save herself and get her legs back under her. She fell into an awkward rolling skid and came to a halt next to the comatose officer.

'AMY!' Craig shouted, leaping to his feet and hurrying towards the door.

'AGENT OWENS. FREEZE.' Pete barked out the order, causing Craig to pull up short of the door. His military style basic training had kicked in and he'd obeyed the command without question.

Craig turned towards the mission leader, his eyes moist with tears. 'But it's Amy. We can't just leave her out there.'

'I know son,' Pete said sympathetically. 'But we can't rescue her either.'

'So what are we going to do then?' Stuart asked. 'We don't abandon our own.'

'Nobody is abandoning anybody,' Pete said forcefully. 'But it's like rescuing someone who's fallen through the ice. Everyone who goes out there ends up needing to be rescued.'

He turned back to the control panel and opened communications. 'Mike India Victor One to Despatch. Agent down. Request immediate backup. Repeat, Mike India Victor One to Despatch. Agent down. Request immediate backup. Over.'

['Copy that Mike India Victor One. We are scrambling Sky Hawk One. ETA thirty minutes. Over,'] Jake replied.

'Copy that Jake. Over.'

'I sealed her helmet visor,' Craig said quietly as he looked guiltily at Pete and Stuart. 'I thought I was protecting her . . .' They gave him a puzzled look, and then it dawned on them what he had realised. 'That gives us about an hour and a half to get her out of there before her suit oxygen runs out,' Craig reminded them.