Chapter Seven

3 December 2006

"Jack?"

Ianto strode into the hub, moving smoothly, sheer willpower eliminating any external evidence of his residual pain and stiffness.

"Hmm?"

"I just got an interesting phone call from a Dectective Swanson, Cardiff PD. She's requesting Torchwood's presence at a crime scene."

Jack looked at him sharply.

"They're requesting Torchwood?"

Ianto pursed his lips.

"First time for everything, Sir."

"Did they say why?"

"No, Sir. Just gave me the address."

"Well, then, I think we'd better go take a look."

Ianto monitored the team's communications from the Hub. Even via Jack's video hookup seeing the word "Torchwood" scrawled across the wall in blood was chilling. He knew that being at the scene, smelling the metallic tang of fresh blood, mingled with the stench of loosened bowels and bladders emptied at the moment of death would have made it that much worse. So he was ready for the subdued team that convened in the conference room.

"But we've not given Retcon to anyone since—" Tosh looked across the table apologetically at her newest colleague. "Since Gwen. How could anyone still have Retcon in his blood?"

"Well," Owen looked a bit abashed. "I misspoke a little. The tests were done on hair, not on blood. And while Retcon only stays in the system for a few hours, hair provides a nice historical record of exposures, a month for every half-inch of hair."

Tosh glanced at her notes. "The hair was two and a half inches long. So, this guy had Retcon sometime in the last five months."

"Well, that narrows it down a BIT more. Ianto, how many people would that make?"

The Welshman shook his head. "Jack, that time frame includes the battle of Canary Wharf, 'a cyberman in every home,' invasion of the daleks. Torchwood gave a lot of people Retcon , and this test doesn't distinguish between your special mixture and the version used by Torchwood London and Glascow. I'm sorry, but the last five months just doesn't narrow it down that much."

* * *

Ianto caught up with Jack as he was in his office pulling up the access codes to the Torchwood bulk storage facility. The investigation had finally turned up a lead, and it was taking the team to about the last place Ianto had ANY desire to be.

"If it's all the same to you, Sir, I think I'll pass on digging through Suzie's storage compartment. After all, someone should be here to watch the rift monitors."

"You know, Ianto, we can set the monitors to signal us remotely."

"Yes, Sir, but then I wouldn't have a reason to pass up this kind of opportunity."

"You don't need an excuse, Ianto. We've got more than enough hands for this job."

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's just—"

"I know you and Suzie weren't the best of friends."

Ianto snorted.

"She didn't even know I was alive. Unless she wanted a cup of coffee or was complaining about whatever pizza boxes Owen had left lying around."

"She objected to me hiring you, thought she should have been consulted. And she wasn't happy about Myfanwy. Never really got over being afraid of her. So I don't think she was predisposed to be welcoming. In any case, as it turns out, the rest of us didn't know her any better. Maybe not as well, even. You at least realized that you weren't close. I knew her for years, recruited her into Torchwood. I thought she was one of us, our friend. I thought she was dedicated to our mission, to protecting people. To protecting this planet."

"We all have our own agendas, Sir," Ianto reminded him reluctantly.

"What happened with Suzie was—different."

"How?"

"You may have deceived us, but when push came to shove, you weren't going to let your teammates get hurt. You may have been misguided, but you didn't intentionally put anyone at risk. You just tried to save your girlfriend. Suzie killed three people. She shot me. She would have shot Gwen."

"I slugged you. I wanted to kill you."

"You wanted to hurt me. There's a big difference."

Ianto considered his captain's words, and nodded slowly. "But that isn't it. It's just—the last few months. So much death. Canary Wharf, Suzie, Ed Morgan, Lisa, Estelle, Jas, Mary, all those people at Brynblaidd … I just—"

Jack met his gaze, his eyes full of understanding and compassion.

"Like I said, Yan. No worries, we have plenty of hands for this job. And we need you to monitor the Rift while we're out."

* * *

It neither escaped Ianto's notice nor surprised him that when the revived Suzie did her role call in the Hub, she'd left him out. In her world, "the gang" hadn't included him. He watched the video of the power transfer between Gwen and Suzie. Unlike the prior video of Mark Briscoe, the power between Gwen and Suzie didn't run through the glove. No wonder the connection wasn't broken when the glove was no longer in contact with Suzie's head.

And not for the first time did Jack curse himself for ever hiring Gwen when he realized that she's smuggled Suzie out of the building.

"What's she doing?"

"Getting herself fired."

"How stupid is that? Thinking she can just drive off."

"Come on, let's go get them."

Jack, Owen and Tosh had just turned to head for the SUV when the lights went out and the hub doors all closed and locked.

"What the hell? Ianto! Ianto!"

"Captain."

"What happened?"

"But—I thought you must have done it. We've gone into lock down."

"Then, reverse it!"

"I can't. It's hundred percent. The doors are sealed. We're locked in."

"Everything's gone: computers, mobile coverage, lifts, everything. We're sealed in."

It shouldn't have surprised Jack that it was Ianto who figured out a way to communicate with the outside world, yet somehow he assumed that Tosh would be the one to come up with the answer. But while Toshiko was overtly a genius, Ianto's fund of knowledge was seemingly endless, and attached to a solid, practical, constructive talent. Tosh might worry over the details of Suzie's betrayal, and figure out how to undo the lock down, but it was Ianto who used the tower as an antenna and got them phone service.

"Nice work, Ianto."

Ianto couldn't blame Cathy Swanson for her amusement over their predicament. He had to admit, had the situations been reversed, he probably would have put the call on speaker and gather the troops too. But she'd not delayed in helping them. Despite it requiring several cups of coffee. And she hadn't hesitated to clear the roads ahead of the SUV, didn't require a long explanation, just took Jack at his word that it was important. Ianto made a mental note to take her a cup of his own brew sometime soon.

Unaware that her actions that day were going to earn her the best cup of coffee she'd ever had, Cathy Swanson arrived on the ferry pier with the first of her units. It was a bloody scene that awaited her. Owen Harper sat on the ground, clutching Gwen Cooper to him. Both were covered in blood, and there was something about his protective posture that left Swanson wondering if there were more to their relationship than just being colleagues. Funny, based on his reputation, she would have assumed that if anyone were bedding the female employees, it would be Harkness. But maybe he did his prowling further from home… In all honesty, she herself couldn't honestly claim to be immune to his charm.

The Captain himself was further out the pier, standing over the bullet-ridden body of a woman Swanson didn't recognize.

"She looks dead," Swanson commented as she approached the scene.

"God, Cathy, I certainly hope so."

"Who is she?"

"She is, was-- she was Torchwood."

She eyed him, evaluating, waiting for further explanation.

"We take care of our own. Clean up after our own."

"Anything else I need to know about this?"

"You can close the files on Sarah Pallister, Rani Ghosh and John Tucker. They all died about six weeks ago. And on Badi Costello. I believe he was murdered last night. Plus your three."

"Close them why?" Knowing the answer, even as she asked.

"You aren't ever going to get any more leads on the killer. And there won't be any more victims."

She eyed the corpse warily.

"And what should my report read about this?"

"Classified, authority Torchwood."