Chapter 3: Jack

Ianto was contently humming as he wandered around the Hub, picking up rubbish and filling the black sack he carried. He picked up a couple of pizza boxes and then went to Owen's desk and hesitated. It was hard to know what was rubbish and what was not. There had been a memorable occasion not so long ago when he'd thrown away odd containers and soiled cloths only to be told they were samples from an autopsy; he didn't want to repeat that mistake. Owen had been furious, despite Ianto pointing out, when he'd been able to get a word in, that the items had not been labelled nor in the regulation sample bags. Eventually, Ianto settled for removing the empty drinks cans and sweet wrappers leaving the rest for another time.

He went into Jack's office and emptied the waste bin, grateful that he at least used one. It was an old-fashioned bin that Ianto had always admired; wicker work of a quality rarely seen these days. He smiled at Jack, who was engrossed in reading a report. "Anything else to go?" he asked brightly.

Jack looked up from Toshiko's excellent analysis of their most recent find and returned Ianto's smile. "Err, no, that's it."

"Good. In that case I'll go and see to the Weevils."

"Okay." Jack went back to the analysis and Ianto left the room, on his way to the vaults.

Fifteen minutes passed. Toshiko returned from the kitchen with a sandwich and a beer and sat at her desk, taking bites as she read the interim results of her translations. She could do nothing until the program completed its work so idly looked across to Jack, who was sitting at his desk reading, then up to the hot house where Owen pottered around watering the plants. She smiled; she would never have imagined that Owen would have such a talent for horticulture.

The peaceful scene was shattered by a piercing scream. Jack ran out of his office, "What was that?" he asked, scanning the area. He had his holstered gun in hand.

"Don't know," mumbled Toshiko, her mouth full. She was tapping at her keyboard, checking CCTV.

Owen appeared on the upper walkway. "Jack?" he called inquiringly.

"Any idea where it came from?" asked Jack, now standing beside the water tower. He was strapping the holster to his waist.

"Not up here. Down there somewhere, the vaults maybe?" he suggested.

Jack's face paled, "Ianto," he whispered. "Owen, with me," he yelled, running across to the archway leading to the vaults.

As he ran, Jack thought about the current occupants of the vaults. He remembered the two Hoix (or should that be Hoixes? he wondered) found in the motorway service area near Newport. There were those spidery/mouse things that gave him the creeps; he hadn't been able to avoid giving them house room. Gwen's out-of-time Viking was there too. She'd found him terrorising a Women's Institute meeting, swinging his battle-axe and cursing; he'd almost decapitated the visiting speaker. Then there were the Weevils, a lot of Weevils. They normally had between six and 10, the resident Janet and others that were under observation. At present there were 27, or was it 28? He couldn't be sure. The number had increased because of the torrential rain which had forced many out of the sewers. Once the water levels had receded, they would be returning them to their 'homes' but for now they were here in the Hub.

Had one or more of these 'guests' escaped and attacked Ianto? Was he injured, even dead? Jack ran faster, fear driving him forward. He had to block those thoughts from his mind, to concentrate, or he could make matters worse. It didn't work. All he could think about was Ianto lying dead or dying on the floor, his throat ripped out. Or maybe decapitated by that bloody Viking. He rounded the corner and was in the vaults. He slowed, checking each block of three. The first two were secure with no sign of anything amiss. The third looked okay but, no, what was that in the middle cell? He jumped in, gun held two-handed in front of him. He saw the bundle of clothes on the ledge-bed and the Weevil crouched over them growling fiercely. Ianto!

Jack launched himself at the Plexiglas door. The force of his charge took the door off its hinges and the whole, heavy door shifted half a metre, still upright, before slowly toppling forward catching the Weevil a glancing blow as it fell. Jack was in the cell in a flash, grabbing at the body, searching for signs of life, a pulse, anything. It took him several minutes to realise there was no pulse, there were no life signs. There was no body! The bundle he had mistaken for Ianto was in fact a couple of ripped blankets. He sat back on his heels, relief flooding him. It was in that unguarded moment that the Weevil struck, its claws tearing at Jack's neck and severing the jugular vein. Jack fell forward, dead.

Owen fired at the Weevil and it went down, lying partly on Jack and partly on the fallen door. He stood back, breathing hard and watching the Weevil carefully for signs of movement. He heard a clatter of feet behind him and Ianto and Toshiko ran in.

"What's happened?" asked Ianto. He looked down at the dead Weevil and saw Jack for the first time. "Jack!" he rushed forward, pulled the Weevil off him, checked his boss's pulse and confirmed he was dead. He took his shoulders and pulled him out of the cell, laying him down just outside. "Owen?"

"There was a scream, from down here. Jack rushed off, I couldn't keep up. When I got here the Weevil was on him. I had to shoot." He was pale from shock.

Ianto looked shame-faced and moderately guilty. "A scream?" he queried. The others looked at him suspiciously. "It was me," he admitted. "I went to turn on the hose, to wash out the cells, and it squirted all over me. I was drenched so went off to change." He grinned apologetically, "I didn't think anyone had heard me."

"Well, we did," replied Toshiko. She was now in the cell, looking around. "Look at this," she indicated the door. "It's right off its hinges. And it's way over here. How did he move it so far?"

Half an hour later, when Jack had revived, the four gathered around Toshiko's desk. They were looking at the CCTV footage and there was an awed silence as they saw Jack's charge take the door right off its hinges. They were all well aware that the doors were made of toughened Plexiglas several inches thick; it was barely possible to move them by hand, the electronic door openers were essential. It had taken four burly men to lift and fit each one when the vaults were upgraded a year or so back.

"Way to go, Harkness!" enthused Owen. "Ianto in danger and door to the floor!" He turned, "Oh, but that's not right, is it? It was a blanket! All that super-human effort to rescue a blanket," he cackled. The others ignored him and he wandered off, laughing to himself, to perform an autopsy on the Weevil he'd shot.

Jack strolled to his office and Ianto followed. "Thank you," he said softly, leaning against the filing cabinet and looking at Jack who was standing by his desk.

"For what?" responded Jack, hands in pockets. "I made a complete ass of myself."

"Not from where I'm standing. You thought it was me and took out that door like it was nothing." He moved across and placed his hands on Jack's shoulders. "I never knew you were so strong," he murmured, leaning close and running his hands down over Jack's upper arms, squeezing his muscles. "I think you deserve a reward." He kissed him softly before moving away and opening the hatch to Jack's quarters, his eyebrow arched suggestively.

Jack took a step back, slammed the office door shut and locked it before following Ianto down the ladder. He adored rewards.