Chapter Six
Jack barged through the open door to the armoury and stopped dead. What had he been thinking? Yeah, he needed a weapon, maybe explosives, but shouldn't he have expected this place to be heavily guarded?
The problem was, ever since he'd met this strange 'Doctor' and his pretty sidekick, he hadn't been thinking straight. Heck, he hadn't been thinking at all. He was a Time Agent, he should know better.
And yet, somehow, dashing around Montauk without the faintest idea of a plan seemed to be working.
The armoury door was wide open, and not a soul was on sentry duty. Maybe the MPs had better things to do, either for Tesla, or because the facility had been overrun by its own crazed staff.
Whatever the reason, Jack Harkness wasn't stupid enough not to take advantage of it.
Closing the security door behind him, he jumped over the sign-in desk and skittered into the main weapons storage area. His boyish smile turned into a large grin as he surveyed what was on offer.
Of course, he'd been in here before, but the sight of his favourites all lined up and awaiting his touch always made his stomach churn with excitement. The 'Doctor' may hate a good old Smith and Wesson or Browning, but Jack couldn't help but get a warm fuzzy feeling the moment the cold steel hit the palm of his hands.
He stuffed a US Airforce-issue automatic into his waistband and took a second to weigh up the advantages of an M16 against the single handgun. He shrugged to himself, deciding he could move more adroitly without the cumbersome rifle.
Grabbing a box of shells for the .45, he paused at the explosives locker. Until now, he hadn't really thought about how he was going to disable the generator. It wasn't as if he actually knew a whole lot about ancient power devices like that. He was great with 51st century tech, but something so primitive it probably still ran on gasoline? Not so much.
Jack licked his lips and tried his old access code on the bulky keypad lock. It chirped, and surprisingly turned green after a short pause. Evidently, Tesla was so cocky he hadn't rescinded the Time Agent's security clearance.
"Always knew I was just too good to say no to…" Jack's eyes sparkled with mirth as he selected two square chunks of C4 and what he assumed were the relevant detonators. This was going to be messy, but quick. "Just what the Doctor ordered," he muttered, slamming the locker closed once more.
"Jack?"
He looked up to find Martha staring at him as if he'd gone AWOL from a mission. She looked angry, and he decided he liked her all the more that way. It was no fun when the gal, guy, or whatever, didn't play hard to get. "What?" He finally responded. "Don't tell me you're with the Peace Corps too?"
"I thought we'd agreed no guns…?"
"No," he sighed, edging back through the door and into the corridor. "I think I may have agreed not to shoot anyone; I never said no guns."
Martha followed, realizing they were passing the infirmary again. We're going in circles! "Isn't that the same thing?" she prodded.
"Hardly." Jack tugged the automatic out and filled the clip with shells. "Listen, maybe you should wait here. Just because there were no guards at the armoury…"
"No way! First the Doctor, now you! I'm coming with you, we're going to finish this, yeah? And then we go right back and find the Doctor!"
Jack frowned, flipping the safety off the .45. Women, he decided, were sometimes more trouble than they were worth. "No need to get tetchy," he offered. "I can take a hint." He nodded to an exterior door that seemed to lead into an outer courtyard. "Generator room is across there…we can take it out with the C4…if there are no guards…"
Martha edged forwards, peering at the concrete building that looked like some kind of blast shelter. "If there's one thing I've learned travelling with the Doctor, it's that 'if' is a very big word…"
Jack held the automatic up to his chest, pointing the barrel skywards as he dodged from the cover of the corridor to dart up to the door. "Strikes me your buddy likes big words."
"Smartest man I know, and then some," Martha admitted as she joined Jack, electing to use the opposite side of the doorframe for a limited amount of cover.
Jack took a breath, deciding on whether to just go for a full frontal assault or try something a little more stealthy. "So tell me something, Martha: if you know him so well, if he's so…'brain of the universe', how do I end up stuck living forever? Why…?"
"It's not his fault…"
Jack nodded, but the sarcastic look on his face said it all. "It's never anyone's fault. That's the problem," he muttered, stepping away from the doorframe and out into the open.
He exhaled, hearing Martha's footsteps behind him. Why the hell couldn't she just bring a gun? Even if she had no intention of using one, it would have made him feel better.
"I don't see any guards…" Martha levelled with Jack, her high boot heels clomping across the concrete enclosure like the ominous knocking at a secluded mansion's door.
Jack held out a hand in front of her, stopping her getting any closer to the generator room. He didn't like this.
Something was off.
"Just let the tough guy go first for once, huh?" He cocked a brow and then took Martha's forearm, guiding her to his right until they were behind a small wall. It had originally been built as nothing more than shielding from the elements, but right now, Jack would take it as a different kind of protection. "It's too quiet," he noted, ducking his head up to take another peek at their target.
No sooner had he bobbed into plain view than a volley of bullets skittered across the brickwork near his temple, some gouging into the wall, some glancing off the edge and missing the Time Agent by millimetres.
"Ouch…" Jack dropped back down next to Martha. "I'm so offended. Trying to kill me and they don't even know me yet…" He smirked and then cut sideways, firing off three rounds at their unknown assailant. "Bet he wouldn't be shooting at me if he knew how cute I am in a uniform…"
Martha ignored the self-adoration and focused on the generator room. "Is there another way in?"
"Not unless you plan on tunnelling over there. No Transmats in this century, sweetheart." Jack popped up again, trying to judge the distance between the wall and the generator room door without getting his head blown off.
It wouldn't take much of a sprint to get to their target, but short of their foe running out of clips, he couldn't see how to get in without someone being killed – namely Jack, if he was dumb enough to make an assault.
"Couldn't you use a lump of that explosive to cause a distraction?" Martha suggested. "Draw them out or maybe get them to surrender?"
Jack pulled a cube of C4 from his pocket and thought about it. Using a detonator stick he could probably make it work, but just how much of the stuff was too much? He could toss the lot in the doorway and take out the generator and the bad guys in one fell swoop, but somehow he thought Martha might not go for that kind of plan.
"You want me to judge just the right amount to freak them, not kill them, right?"
"Right." Martha agreed cheerily, as if it was the easiest task in the world.
"Do I look like the kinda geek who would know that stuff?" Jack grumbled, already working the material in his hands until he was able to pull away a small chunk.
"Actually, yeah." Martha's smile grew. "Trust me, you're way smarter than you act sometimes."
Jack stuck a detonator stick into the malleable lump in his right hand and huffed. "Yeah, well tell me how the heck I got entangled with you and Doctor Do Good then?"
Before Martha could answer, he tossed the lump of explosive out into the yard with his best pitch and then hit the ground, covering his ears with his hands to muffle the sound of the blast.
Martha mimicked the move, feeling small segments of concrete and stone raining down on her back as the impromptu grenade exploded.
Before the dust and flying debris had settled, Jack was back up, gun in hand. Taking a risk, he moved out into the open, keeping his weapon trained on the generator doorway.
All he could see from this angle and distance was the thick black veil of the unknown. Anyone, or anything, could still be hiding in the shadows, waiting to empty their clip into him.
And you're not immortal yet…
"Okay, out in the open, now," he demanded. "Weapons on the floor, hands behind your heads…"
There was a beat. A pause that seemed to last far longer than the three short seconds it took for the young soldier to toss out his M16 and emerge into the daylight.
"I said hands behind your head!" Jack stretched his fingers over the automatic. His palm was sticky with sweat and he realized he was actually scared for the first time in his life.
How much longer had they got to stop the generator? And could the Doctor finish his part of the deal even if they did kill the extra power to the Rift?
"I was just following orders…" The MP slid his hands to the back of his skull and looked Jack over, unsure if he'd made the right choice. "Everyone started acting weird…not sane anymore. I didn't know who to trust, who to follow…"
"So you stuck with Commandant Tesla's instructions?" Jack frowned as he stepped closer to his prisoner. Catching the kid alive was one thing, but he was now realizing he had nothing to secure the soldier with.
And I don't have time to play nursemaid while the planet burns…
As he scolded himself mentally, Martha dodged around them, plucking a set of cuffs from the back of the MP's belt. She dangled them under Jack's nose with a condescending smile that made the Time Agent narrow his eyes.
His comeback was less than subtle, as usual. "Oh, yes please…who'd have thought you like to play that way Miss Jones…?"
Martha didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, quickly slapping the cuffs on the soldier before he decided to make a run from his slightly deranged captors.
"Wha…what do you want? I mean, why are you doing this? What did you do to the others?" The soldier allowed himself to be prodded back towards the generator, but his wild eyes suggested he thought they were still the enemy, not Tesla.
"We didn't do anything. We're trying to put this mess right." Martha walked alongside the young man, with Jack taking point until they were inside the two-roomed building. From inside the second chamber, they could hear the generator humming relentlessly.
"If you're innocent, why the guns? The explosives?"
"Because it's quicker than trying to reason with people like you?" Jack raised a brow. "You fired first, remember? How did that make us the bad guys?" He put a foot forward, hand outstretched to nudge the generator house door open.
As Jack's fingers curled around the handle, the MP's throat bobbed. "Wait…" he grimaced as the word came out, obviously uncertain of what he was about to say. "Don't go in there…"
Jack instantly tensed, letting the .45 in his hand train on the door. "One of your buddies inside?" He whispered, never taking his gaze from the entrance.
The MP nodded. "Sarge got a little…strange an hour or so ago. Like the others, all weird. And his eyes, God, his eyes…He said if anyone tried to go in, he'd take their head off…"
"Great, just great," Jack tried to keep his voice down, but it was hard when it felt like they were hitting wall after wall. He glanced fleetingly at Martha, knowing she'd be reading his mind right about now. Use the C4 and blow the whole dang building…
"Maybe if I go in first…" It was the young MP and he was shaking as he made the offer.
Jack shook his head. "No thanks, we tried it that way once already today, and let's just say I didn't like the outcome." If he couldn't trust Amy, no way was he trusting this kid. He looked back to Martha. "Look, I hate to quote Star Trek, but you gotta see the good of the many outweighs the one here?"
"We can't just blow someone up because he's sick!"
"Fine." Jack shrugged. "Then I guess I'll get killed trying to save zombie guy. Kinda cuts out all the worry of being immortal later, huh?" He rolled his eyes and then lashed out at the door with the heel of his boot.
The metal partition buckled, but didn't yield, so Jack stepped back and then threw his weight at it, crashing into the door with his right shoulder until it imploded inwards, hinges tearing from their frame.
Jack rolled, using the momentum to throw himself on the floor. The move proved a wise one as a hail of bullets filled the space where he'd been standing seconds earlier.
Kill, or be killed, that was the question now.
He rotated his body, pushing up from the damp concrete to take aim at the crazed sergeant. The man was just like all the others, wide-eyed, lost in a world inside his head.
Jack tensed, wanting to pull the trigger of his weapon, but suddenly finding a goofy Brit accent filling his head instead. No shooting the natives!
The Time Agent hesitated, realizing that his quarry hadn't let off any more rounds.
He blinked, thinking when he re-opened his eyes the scene before him would have changed. But it hadn't. 'Sarge' was helplessly fumbling with his rifle, trying to pry an empty clip from its body with little success.
Either his condition had made him clumsy, or somehow the M16 had jammed. Either way, Jack couldn't believe his luck. But then, was it his luck, or the luck of the Time Lords? It was the Doctor who didn't want any killing, and he usually seemed to get his way, even when he wasn't actually in the room.
Jack shook his head and stuffed his .45 back in his waistband. "I'm so going to regret this…" Stepping lithely forwards, he swung a right hook at the distracted soldier's chin, thinking he could knock him down if he couldn't shoot him.
The punch landed squarely on the sergeant's jaw and he stumbled backwards with an angry grunt. Whether he was angry at Jack or at himself for his own misgivings, the Time Agent couldn't determine.
What Jack did realize almost immediately, though, was that 'Sarge' wasn't going to go down. He shook his hand and grimaced. The blow might not have taken out his opponent, but his knuckles were definitely going to bruise.
Jack dodged sideways, trying to keep his feet moving and his hands up like a professional pugilist.
The MP rubbed absently at his reddening chin and then unexpectedly swung a punch of his own. The man's fist narrowly missed Jack's right eye and continued on through the air until it impacted on the wall behind them.
Paint and plaster crumbled from the force of the blow, but 'Sarge' didn't even notice. He pulled his arm back, lunging again like a fractious baboon. This time, the punch actually hit home, knocking Jack backwards until he felt his body losing its balance.
He grabbed at the nearby wall, caught himself and then barrelled head first at the enemy. If ordinary fighting didn't work, then he was prepared to wrestle the man to the floor.
'Sarge' actually chuckled insanely at the Time Agent's move, bringing his arms down so heavily on Jack's back that he thought his spine would snap. Instead, Jack simply buckled, finding himself on the concrete with the MP hovering above him.
And still the man just stared with those wild, swirling eyes.
Jack's hand drifted to the gun tucked into his trousers. If he had to do it…
"So, you gonna kill me, or smile me to death?" he asked sarcastically.
The sergeant didn't get the joke, but decided that if he couldn't fire his weapon he'd use it to bludgeon his foe into the floor. He grabbed at the rifle he'd dropped previously, turning it so he could use the butt like a club.
Raising it above his head, his crazed eyes glistened with Rift madness and he didn't even notice Jack pull out his own weapon.
"Sorry, but I got a date with immortality I don't want to miss…" Jack's trigger finger hovered, but didn't pull back. There was no need, because the MP was already slumping forwards, pupils rolling back under his eyelids.
'Sarge' landed on top of Jack with a sound that resembled a snore and remained perfectly still.
"Hey, I'm not that easy," Jack snarked, heaving the dead-weight of the man off him with a scowl of distaste. "Especially not when you tried to ruin my striking good looks..." He massaged his jaw for effect, wincing as the move proved painful.
After a second, it actually occurred to him that he hadn't disarmed the man, and he looked up.
Martha was standing between him and the unconscious soldier with a grin on her face and an empty hypo in her hand. "See, not everything is solved with weapons!"
Jack grunted and pushed up from the floor. "Tell that to my jaw tomorrow." He looked at the sleeping MP. "Wondered where you'd gotten to," he mused, searching his pockets for the somewhat squished blocks of C4.
"Infirmary is close by. Couldn't find anything to hit him with here so…"
Jack nodded, impressed. "You use your initiative a lot, Martha Jones. You sure I can't interest you in that job?" He walked over to the generator, pushing the plastic explosive onto the metal and moulding it with his hands.
"Let's see if we live first, yeah?" Martha watched him work, taking tentative glances over her shoulder to make sure they didn't get any more unwanted guests. When Jack was almost finished, she jogged over to the drugged MP and grabbed his arms. "I'll drag him out into the yard where it's safe."
Jack bobbed his head, and as she vanished from the room muttered. "You hope it'll be safe…" He jabbed in two detonators and then scrambled to his feet, dashing for the door in the sure knowledge that he had no clue how long they had to get to safety.
For a Time Agent, I never was very good with timers, he reflected as the building behind him shuddered and an almighty roll of man-made thunder filled the air.
And then, the blast and secondary shockwave hit, and he pondered no more.
The Doctor felt the sheer intensity of the Rift pressing down at his shoulders like he was experiencing extreme G-force. If this was what it was like for a Time Lord with a special suit, what would happen to a mere human in this room? He dared not even think about the mental image such a thought could conjure.
Instead, he turned in the bulky suit, scouring the room for signs of Tesla through the murky visor.
It didn't take long to find the rogue Gallifreyan – Tesla was in the corner by the Rift, meddling with the machine the Doctor had inspected earlier.
Tesla hadn't seen him enter, and was frenziedly zapping the conglomeration of parts with what looked suspiciously like a sonic screwdriver of his own.
When his attempts to gain accurate telemetry failed, he angrily slammed a gloved hand into the contraption and it juddered from the blow.
"Having a bit of a power cut?" The Doctor stepped forwards, noting the movement was getting harder – like he was trying to defy gravity in some way. "Should have paid that last bill on time…don't you know you should never wait until the red one arrives…?" He made a tutting sound, but it was lost inside the helmet.
Tesla whirled around, rocking slightly as he too fought the energy from the Rift. "Resourceful, and as predictable as ever," he pulled a disgruntled face that said he had better things to do than small talk.
"Predictable? Me?" The Doctor looked taken aback, as if he'd just been insulted, but he carried on regardless. "I wouldn't bother tinkering with that old piece of junk…even the vortex manipulator won't help you without co-ordinates…and I um…may have inadvertently…well, no…intentionally, actually...just disconnected your guidance system." He pulled a pensive face and then tapped the front of his helmet as if he was in deep thought. "Thought I'd send it somewhere it would be more appreciated!"
"The TARDIS…My TARDIS!" Tesla's voice deepened into a cavernous growl and he moved away from the device to stand directly in front of the Doctor. "You shouldn't have done that…"
The Doctor grinned, unabashed. "'Course I should! Stolen property should always be returned to the rightful owner. Don't know much about the law, do you?" He fleetingly glanced at the core of the Rift. It was getting harder to resist looking at its mesmerising kaleidoscope of colours and tantalizing unrefined energy. He had to hurry.
Martha had to hurry.
"You can't go anywhere now. Well, not unless you want to get tossed about infinity and beyond. Might be fun for a while, until the eternal darkness and unending um…nothingness starts to drive you mad." He shot Tesla a wary glance and then muttered. "'Course, in your case you're already halfway there…"
"Bring the TARDIS back and join me. Go home to Gallifrey…see the second sun rise in the south as if you'd never lost it…rule with me…!"
The Doctor's head cocked to one side, and it looked for a moment as if he was considering it. His eyes seemed to glaze over at the memory of his home world. The cities, the glorious red sky, the trees with leaves of shimmering silver.
And then he sighed, turning his attention back to Tesla. "Riiight…see, now why is it that everyone wants to make a deal when they're backed into a corner? Once knew a Headmaster…well no, actually he was a Krilitane, but who cares? Anyway…he offered me pretty much the same arrangement…funny old world, isn't it?"
Tesla scrutinized the Doctor as if he'd gone mad. "If you don't help me, then you and the rest of this world, maybe more, will die with me. You can't shut down the Rift and it will tear a hole in the fabric of time and space itself until the Big Bang theory seems like a mere party trick…"
The Doctor grimaced as if Tesla had sworn. "Oooh, what is it with everyone and Big Bang today? First Jack, now you…it's getting very old. 'Least he was funny…" He grinned. "Anyway, back to the swirly whirly thing here…" He pointed to the whirlpool that threatened to engulf them. "Any moment now you're about to lose more juice when my mates shut down your secondary generator…shoulda paid that bill, eh?"
Tesla stole a look at the device keeping the Rift wide open. His eyebrows twitched and he clenched both fists in frustration.
There was nowhere to go, no answers.
"There's no need for anyone else to die here," the Doctor cajoled, his face softening just a touch.
Tesla's features remained the colour and texture of stone as he twisted back to face his nemesis. "Oh, but I think there is…YOU!"
Even in the heavy-duty suit, Tesla moved both swiftly and accurately, diving at his prey like he was in some chaotic rugby scrum.
The Doctor was slower to react – he'd had far less practice in the unwieldy suit and it was showing. Almost too late, he realized that Tesla was not only attacking, but that he had his gloved hand outstretched, the tip of his sonic glowing wildly.
The screwdriver pulsed and the Doctor felt something give in his suit. Whatever control activated its protective properties, Tesla had just switched them off.
His body was exposed to the full effects of the Rift – the crude, fatal energy pulsing through his veins as surely as was his blood.
As the realization hit, so did Tesla's attack. Barrelling into the Doctor, both men crumpled to the floor in an ugly heap of tangled limbs and weighty helmets.
The Doctor rolled over first, kicking at Tesla just enough to make him shrink back from the Time Lord's boot heel. With only seconds to work with, the Doctor unclamped his helmet and tossed it to one side, grateful for the extra mobility and vision.
Vision…
Should he really be seeing two Teslas?
He shook his head, knowing the Rift was getting to him, getting inside him, inside his head, inside every molecule until he exploded in a mangled heap of tissue.
He didn't want to, but he had no choice – to save mankind, he would have to fight – no, he would have to win.
Pushing onto his elbows, he tried to stumble to his feet, but his muscles were already refusing. Martha, Donna, Mickey, Rose, Jack… All of them would cease to exist if he didn't move.
He lurched forwards, grabbing Tesla by the shoulders. After the destruction of Gallifrey he'd hoped never to raise a fist in anger again, but if taking a swing at this turncoat meant saving countless billions, then he'd do it. No second chances…
The flashing imagery of a long ago sword fight with a Sycorax whirled through his head. I'm that sort of a man…
Tesla didn't wait for the first right hook to land. Jarring backwards, away from the Doctor's grip, he rolled dangerously close to the mouth of the Rift, and all too late realized his mistake.
The out of control singularity was sucking in matter, smashing it through time and space at a miraculous rate. The closer you got to its maw, the more chance there was of being swallowed by its insatiable jaws.
He stumbled backwards, his limbs being dragged across the floor against his will. Arms outstretched he tried to grab for the walls, for anything that would stop his body being smothered by the sheer power of time.
"No!!!!" Tesla's scream was more than primal, it was almost childlike as he realized he had sealed his own terrible fate.
The Doctor was being dragged now too as the energy began to pulse through the entire room. He fell forwards, unable to fight its power. Reaching out a hand, he tried desperately to at least grab hold of Tesla.
If they were to be tossed out into the void between worlds, then perhaps it was at least fitting that the last two Time Lords were imprisoned in the darkness together – for what short time there would be any kind of universe, at any rate.
Tesla smiled, but didn't take the offered hand.
Instead, he stopped fighting the monster he had created, letting the Rift consume him. In a flash of light and chroniton energy, he was gone, sucked into some other world, time, maybe even dimension.
As the glare from his departure faded, the Doctor realized the Rift's mouth was shrinking, collapsing in on itself like space was folding, closing up some hideous wound.
He rolled onto his back, lopsided grin returning, eyelids closing in exhaustion. "Martha…"
"Yes, bloody meddlesome Martha…"
The Doctor forced his eyes back open to find Amy peering down at him, her face a mask of anger, frustration and so much more. She held a small automatic in her right hand, and continuously flicked back her hair with the other as if the motion would somehow calm her – a woman on the brink of insanity.
She was wearing a suit, but no helmet. Still, now that the Rift was closing, the residual effects might not be enough to harm her.
"Hello again…" He tried to sound chipper, but it really wasn't working. He couldn't sit up, let alone stand, so there was no way he could fight her. In fact, the way his mind was begging to shut down like some late night TV channel, he wasn't even sure he could outwit her.
"You killed him…left me trapped in this godforsaken time like some…some…" The gun wavered in her hand, fingers flexing over its butt as she considered her options. "Some forgotten castaway…" She kneeled, pressing the tip of the automatic's barrel to his temple. "Tell me, if I pull the trigger at this close range, would you even have time to consider regenerating?"
The Doctor closed his eyes, dragging down a ragged breath. "Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that," he conceded.
Amy seemed to consider the muted response and lack of mirth, and then her expression of anger turned to pleasure. "Feeling the effects of the Rift, are we?" She glanced warily across to where the mouth of the opening had been.
"Either that, of I have a hellish hangover…which considering I rarely drink...Oooh wait! Unless someone slipped me an almighty big Mickey in my last cup of tea! Thought it was a bit iffy for Earl Grey…"
The girl's gun hand began to tremble and she flicked off the weapon's safety. "Then let me put an end to the pain…" Her forefinger closed on the trigger.
"Let me take that for you…"
Amy flinched just long enough for Martha to spin her around and knock the gun cleanly from her hand. Before the nurse could react further, Martha swung her best punch, knocking Tesla's sidekick out cold.
Hardly satisfied with the short fight, she huffed and looked to Jack who stood by watching with amusement.
"Aww, and I so love a good cat fight," he kidded.
"Don't…encourage her…" The Doctor peered up at the pair, but still didn't move. He looked tired, drained, sick even.
Martha fell to her knees at his side and Jack joined her on the other.
"Told you we wouldn't leave you," she said, cradling the Time Lord's head in her lap. "You'll be alright now…we've got you…"
The Doctor sucked down a long breath and began to hack violently.
It sounded wet and guttural.
Martha held him tighter, her eyes welling. She looked to Jack for support, but he didn't know what might come next. That was something only the older Jack was privy to.
"You can regenerate, yeah?" She brushed the hair gently back from his forehead and he swallowed hard, wishing he had the right answer.
If only it were that simple.
The deep brown eyes that were usually so full of jollity and life seemed to dull and he felt his limbs begin to sag in Martha's firm grip. "I'm sorry…I'm so so sorry…"
To be Continued...