Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales
Ianto Jones marveled at Gwen's daughter some days. The ten year-old dealt with everything from family conflict to aliens to saving another child's life. Anwen shrugged it off. He couldn't help but wonder if it was Jack's influence. Or the universe's way of ensuring she could cope with her connection to the Rift.
As he should have expected, Anwen settled in at the kitchen table with her laptop. If watching a classmate nearly die affected her, she was keeping it to herself. Which wasn't surprising.
"Do you need anything?"
"No. I'm fine. If I want something, I can find it. Thanks for rescuing me from the nurses office."
Unsure if that was good or bad, Ianto headed for Jack's office. He slipped off his suit jacket and folded it on the desk before removing his shoulder holster. Continually carrying a gun was starting to feel normal. He switched on a laptop and grabbed a notepad and pen. With Anwen safely home, he had Doyle-related police reports to review. Two PO Box locations had rentals listed in Colin Doyle's name. Each unit had been emptied in the passed two days. Except CCTV confirmed it wasn't Doyle.
Unsure of where else to start, he checked lists of customers. Dewi Sant stood out. While it wasn't impossible for someone to be named after Saint David, it made him wonder. He pulled up the application information, and checked the details. They were fake. Colin Doyle had drawn pictures of Jack depicting him as a saint. There was a possible connection. Comparing the customer lists to names of Catholic saints resulted in several more. All but one didn't exist. The police determined Doyle arrived in Wales by ferry from Ireland. Ianto compared his arrival date to the PO box rentals. It was possible.
He called Jack.
"Morning."
Ianto explained about the rentals. "I'm sending the list."
"Thanks."
He realized he forgot something earlier. "Did Gwen mention she asked if we would babysit this weekend?"
Jack spoke to Gwen in the background.
"No, Ianto," Gwen said, "I asked if you'd mind two more kids for the weekend."
"Hey," Jack said.
Ianto smiled. "They behave better."
Gwen laughed.
"Enough."
"Should I get anything before than, Gwen?"
"Crayons."
"No. Jack's not allowed near wax."
Gwen was laughing when the call ended.
Ddideimlad Flats
Keara Montfort sat cross-legged on her bedroll thinking. In the shadow of Colin's death, she needed to hold on to something. She knew the Fellowship would kill him. She'd seen it. Colin insisted he had to put things right. Even knowing the future at times didn't keep her from being surprised. Without Colin explaining the situation, the visions were confusing. Even some of what Colin did explain didn't make sense.
The school scare had an unexpected participant. Colin explained the technology was harmless but would expose the Prophet as he tried to cover his ass. It went as planned. The school closure even helped. But what she couldn't figure out was the child's protector. John Hart was a mercenary of some kind. Colin described him as a hedonist that collected addictions. He'd left Cardiff years earlier at odds with Jack. There was nothing to explain his connection to the child.
Then she sensed the man creeping up the back stairway. One of the Prophet's soldiers. The real assassin was masked somehow. She closed her eyes on focused inward. When her third eye opened she assessed her escape routes starting with the fire escape. A woman dressed in tattered clothes waited in the alley. Her thoughts were masked. She pictured the front stairway and young man was lounging near the door. He was wearing a happy expression attempting to appear drunk; he was masked. She needed another option.
Colin left her a small chest of alien artifacts. One looked like brass knuckles and shimmered like the inside of a clam shell. She grabbed the few things she could carry, stuffing them quickly into a duffel back, including the artifacts. He explained she had to visualize her destination. She immediately thought of her grandmother's church as a child. She hated it. She focused on the backroom. It was clear. She slipped the device over her fingers and a portal opened. Keara stepped through.
Torchwood Three
Jack Harkness sat in his office wondering about the continuing changes, and if he'd misunderstood the motivation behind returning Ianto and the hub. He originally assumed it had something to do with family conflict. According to John, and his information had been solid so far, Anwen's motivation was prevention. There could be a lot more to it.
"I think this is about a cult." Gwen sat on the floor with papers from one of Doyle's rentals. She read from a piece of parchment paper. "By the time you read this, Jack, I will be dead. An accident or suicide. One less nutter in the world. But its not that simple. The threat against you is real even if everything I was led to believe is not. My task was to protect an eternal saint. An angel who voluntarily gave up his wings to protect the Earth. I was stupid. I believed the Prophet when he said I was special. But I learned. I'm not sure what, or if, I believe in anything anymore. But I have seen proof that you are eternal and here to protect Earth. There is no redemption for what I've done. I recruited people to this evil faith. I led sheep to the slaughter. But I can shine a light on this darkness. Your loyal acolyte, Colin."
Which could be unpredictable. The lack of religious items and books in Colin's flat suggested the situation wasn't about religion. But it involved religion somehow.
"Does that make sense?"
"No."
While Gwen focused on tracking Doyle's movements with her tablet, he opened one of the young man's journals. From the sounds of it, Colin Doyle was tasked with tracking his movements. He wasn't sure how Doyle managed it. The young man had been convinced he was a divine being. Which led him to question established religion.
Gwen interrupted. "Jack, I might have something."
He looked up.
"Nigeria or a part of Nigeria was under British control until 1960. According to archives,a small Torchwood office was established in the 1930s because of unusual and potentially alien artifacts found in the region. The office was officially closed when control was transferred to local government."
"Its still there?"
"Possibly. The Torchwood Institute in London coordinated regional offices. When it was destroyed, the offices became independent."
Jack waited.
"The Nigerian office was located in some type of stronghold which now belongs to the Fellowship of Inner Peace. The group calls themselves a religious retreat and offers no details on their website. Interpol lists them as a cult that recruits impressionable young people world-wide."
"Any firsthand accounts?"
"One. A young woman was found injured by missionaries, and determined to be mentally ill. While delirious she kept asking for the Prophet and saying she was a scribe of God. A representative of the Fellowship arrived, claiming to be next of kin. The woman went with him willingly."
"Doyle was obsessively tracking me. He realized his surveillance wasn't religious, and became convinced the Prophet intended to destroy me." Separating possible fact from fantasy was tiring. "He talks about the Prophet turning men into servants of Death and collecting souls."
"If the Prophet is creating an army of modified humans…"
"I thought of that." Jack rubbed his face.
"What does any of this have to do with the water around Anwen's school?"
"I don't know. UNIT took it off-line and stationed guards." They were calling it a terrorist attack. Although there was no evidence the contamination was dangerous.