Chapter 5: Owen

The building was on a piece of wasteland near the River Ely. It was old and the upper stories in a state of some decay: the roof was half off and one or two of the walls had partially collapsed. The lower two stories, however, were still sound and it was here that Torchwood had discovered traces of an alien ship. As the area was due for redevelopment – more housing - Gwen, Jack and Toshiko had gone to investigate, expecting a simple recovery, but the call to Owen had been panicked and urgent.

He was now outside the building, having rushed there as soon as he got the call, and parked his car alongside the SUV. He took a look around but in the darkness, it was close to midnight, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He tried, yet again, to raise Ianto but the mobile immediately diverted to voice mail; he was going to give him such a mouthful when he found him. Owen jogged to the gap where the front door had once been and entered the building. He used his comms to contact his colleagues.

"Gwen, Jack? Where are you?" He took another step forward, crunching broken glass beneath his feet, and switched on the torch.

His comms gave off a burst of static. "Owen! We're in the cellar, the lower one. The water's coming in fast and we can't get out!" shouted Gwen in his ear. "Help us!"

He shone the light around and spotted a doorway and steps leading down. "I'm on my way," he replied. He hefted the small equipment box and cautiously descended into the gloom. "You said the lower cellar?" he asked.

"Yes, there's two. The steps to this one are opposite the ones to the upper level," said Gwen. "Please hurry." She sounded desperate, which was unlike her.

Owen picked up his pace and was now at the bottom of the steps. He looked around. The cellar was divided into two and in front of him, running the full width of the room was a brick wall with a stout door slightly off centre, to his left. He swung the torch around again but could not see any other door or steps down. He went to the door and tried the handle; it didn't budge.

"Gwen, I can't see the steps," he said, his voice urgent. "There's just a wall with a door in it."

"Oh, yeah, sorry. You've got to go through the door, the steps are the other side to where you are."

"Okay, just hang on." He put down the equipment box and tested the door. It was pretty solid and he didn't think he'd break it down easily. He opened the box at his feet, taking out a sharp chisel and went to work on the lock. "Gwen, what happened?" he asked as he worked, "Where are the others?"

Another burst of static sounded in his ear, then he heard Gwen again. "We followed the traces down here and found the ship. But when we tried to move it, it opened up a gap in the wall and water started coming in. It's getting really deep, Owen, and there's no way out," she finished, the panic evident.

He had levered the lock off and gave a swift kick to the door. It moved but not enough. He tried again and this time he was able to squeeze through. By the light of the torch he could see a doorway ahead of him and ran to it. There was another door, this one also locked. He couldn't believe it! How the hell had they managed to get through? He bent down and started again with the chisel.

"Gwen," he called on the comms, "where are the others?" There was silence for a long minute and his heart leapt to his throat. Then he heard her and breathed again.

"Tosh was hurt, her arm. Jack's trying to keep her above the water but it's rising so fast. I don't know if he'll be able to do it for much longer. He's almost under, Owen, and then she'll go under too!" she wailed, her voice tear-filled.

Owen redoubled his efforts and had the lock off and the door opened in half the time the first had taken. He raced headlong down the steps, not caring whether they were sound or not. He was not going to take any chances that he would be too late. He tripped when he reached the bottom of the steps and landed on his hands and knees, the torch flying one way and equipment box overturning and rolling. Luckily the torch was still working so he was able to find it and locate the box. His hands were scraped from where they had met the concrete floor and he could feel blood oozing out between his palm and the torch. But he paid this no attention, he was shining the torch round, frantic to find the door. He could hear running water although he could not pinpoint its source; a lot of water.

Finally he spotted a shadowy doorway, the only one in the room, and made for it. The door was made of metal, a thick, heavy iron; the room behind must have been used as a safe or strong room. If the others were behind it, no wonder they had been unable to get out. He looked at the lock and started work, not wasting a second. The sound of the water was louder, a rushing as if a lot of water was pouring though a small opening,

"Owen," wailed Gwen's voice from the comms. "Please help me. I can't see Jack and Tosh is almost under. I can't hang on much longer!"

"I'm almost through, Gwen, just a few more minutes," he shouted, working as quickly as he could. "Just hang on!" The pick in his hand turned and he was done. "I've done it, Gwen, I've done it!" He turned the handle and pulled the heavy door open. He stopped and stared, mouth hanging open.

"April Fool!!" chorused his colleagues.

They were seated on various, mismatching pieces of garden furniture. On an upturned crate were opened pizza boxes, cans of beer and bottles of water. Light and heat were supplied by an alien contraption that had been loitering in the archives for ages. On another crate was a Monopoly board, a game in progress. They were looking at him and grinning stupidly. A tape recorder was playing in the corner and sounds of running water came from it. Moonlight streamed in through a gap in the far wall

"Ianto?" asked Jack, looking across at him.

"Twenty-six minutes, 48 seconds," he answered, referring to the stopwatch in his hand.

"Sad, Owen, very sad. We could have drowned in the time it took you to get through a few doors," said Jack shaking his head. The others laughed. Owen just stood there, mouth still open. He'd been had.

Half an hour later they had packed up the room and were ferrying all the stuff back to the SUV. Owen had managed to see the joke – eventually – and downed a couple of beers to drown his embarrassment at being so easily taken in. He should have known, he told himself.

"All right then, Owen?" asked Gwen, carrying one of the chairs while he had the light/heater thingy. They were the last ones out, all the rest of the stuff having gone with their colleagues. "No hard feelings?"

"No, it was a fair cop," he admitted. "You're quite the little actress," he added, "you sounded really desperate."

"Didn't I ever tell you about my days with the local amateur drama group? I was a great Miranda." He looked blank. "She's in The Tempest. You know, lots of water!" she laughed and skipped ahead.

Owen let her go. He was already planning just how he'd get his own back next year ...

And that's the lot. I enjoyed writing these and I hope you enjoyed reading them. Reviews always appreciated.