OHAIR DERE. My name's Document Uploader and I'm not going to upload your chapter four properly! I'm going to put the whole thing in italics so nothing makes sense and you look like a total idiot! :3
I apologise for the technical difficulties. Document Uploader's being an arse, so I've had to upload the whole of chapter four in seperate parts. Please bear with me! D:

'Darren McDonald speaking.'

'Mr McDonald! How have things been going up there?'

'Like clockwork, Sir. Like fucking beautiful clockwork.'

'I see. Well, with that in mind Mr McDonald, I think that now would be the best time to strike.'

'For real?'

'Yes, Mr McDonald. For real. I trust that everyone I, ah, entrustedinto you has been kept secure?'

'We had to, er, convince Crane and Hastings to cooperate.'

'Any damage?'

'Nothing more than a few bruises and some rounds of psychological punishment, Sir.'

'I do like your methods, Darren. Subject Seventeen?'

'Practically a corpse.'

'Good, good. Oh, and what about Stillman?'

'Not a peep, sir. That bird don't sing no more.'

'Oh she will, believe me. Prepare for my arrival in the next two days. Once I'm through with her, she'll be giving us a chorus.'

'Um. Yes, sir.'

McDonald hadn't felt this nervous in a long, long time. He chewed on his nails. This was the big moment. It would make his career. That top job at Abstergo was in his reach, but if he fucked this up…

He couldn't think about it.

He paced some more in the reception of TORCHWOOD 6.2 – well, the reception building of Aberdeen Storage and Co. The secretary behind there watched him, getting bored of him very easily. His mere presence pissed her off too – one's opinion of another lowers significantly when the pair of you fuck at his apartment and he doesn't call you back.

When his telephone call with Vidic had ended, McDonald had poured himself a hearty drink, and then another, and another, and another until he was too drunk to notice Hastings slip into the room, extract something from the computer sitting on his desk with great care (Which involved the hacking of with a screwdriver) and creep out with the thing clenched tightly in his fist.

Not that it mattered at that precise second, anyway.

His seconds since then had been spent thinking about this moment. And now he was running out of them to think about it.

He had three left.

Two.

One.

There was the sound of a car pulling up outside. McDonald's head snapped up, and he watched a black limousine glide up outside the doors. He hurriedly smoothed down his uniform to ensure that there were no creases, and then he looked towards the secretary.

'Look busy!' He snapped as the doors were opened by two huge guards in black suits, with ear pieces and wires coiling down their necks.

And between them and the doors stepped a man with grey hair, a white lab coat over a suit and a voice like rough, worn out gold.

'Mister Vidic! Sir!' McDonald stuttered, sticking out his hand as the man approached. Vidic's eyes travelled around the room, ignoring both McDonald and his hand. 'This is just the front of it, sir.' McDonald said hastily. 'The real stuff's out back.' He cracked a smile, but soon lost it when Vidic turned his eyes on him.

That look was cold. Void of any warmth.

'Very good.' He said, in that voice that didn't sound so golden to McDonald anymore, and then went past him. The men in the black suits followed him. McDonald stared after him, and then felt the secretary's eyes on him. He couldn't remember her name.

She gave him a withering look, and popped her gum.

'What the fuck are you looking at?' He demanded.

She raised her eyebrows once, and then went back to her computer screen. McDonald rolled his shoulders, and moved out of the room to hang behind Vidic like the kid who'll never be accepted into the coolest gang at school, but wants to be with all his heart and soul.

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