LOVE
SIXTEEN
"What are these things?" Rhys Williams asked; his voice full of wonder.
Ianto Jones scowled, "They're weapons."
He'd brought Rhys down deep into the tunnels and inside one of the more carefully concealed areas of Torchwood, hidden within the bowels of the facility. And as far as Ianto knew, Rhys was now only the third person presently alive to know of this place, along with himself and of course Captain Jack Harkness. It was one of Jack's secret armories – a private cache of phenomenally lethal implements. Ianto wasn't even sure that the Captain had told Gwen about these carefully concealed hoards. Stored within this locked and covert arsenal were weapons so poisonous, so virulent, so bloodthirsty, so cruel that they frightened the young Welshman half to death even as they merely rested silently in their cupboards, unused and inert.
"But I've never seen anything like them…" Rhys reached out a hand toward a small, shiny object. Like a viper, Ianto snatched the limb in midair, holding it firmly in place. Although the action was violent, his tone was totally calm.
"No touching."
Rhys' anger flared up but it was instantly tamped down by Ianto's subsequent explanation, voiced in a half-whisper and almost reverentially.
"Even I don't know what some of these are. Only Jack does. The ones I do know about, he's given me many – dare I say endless – lectures on. He's taught me how incredibly dangerous they are, even in the studied and skilled hands of an expert like himself. They're dreadful and lethal and horrific – but the ones he didn't tell me about are even more terrible.
"There are WMDs here that could destroy the entire world if not the solar system. Possibly the galaxy. Weapons that could spawn a supernova, or form a black hole, or tear a rupture in the spacetime continuum. And then there are worse…"
Ianto released Rhys' arm and met his gaze unwaveringly. "Not long ago Jack revealed to me he had a container filled with tiny little programmable nuclear reactors. Less than a thimbleful of them could easily take out every living thing on this planet." The Welshman shook his head. "Jack called them Everything Killers. I had no idea he had them, much less was keeping them right here on site, and they scared the shit out of me. But, Rhys, there are far more appalling things than those living in this locker, and the other lockers like it. There are of course radiological, biological and chemical weapons along with more conventional – and I use that word with a great amount of irony – directed-energy, particle beam, phase and disruptor weapons. But there are also self-replicating programmable nano-robots that you release into the wild and which will relentlessly, perpetually destroy anything you command them to destroy; they will never, ever stop. Even more advanced than those are autonomous weapons systems which once activated become self-aware artificial intelligences. Where the nanobots are tireless and determined but basically dumb, the A.I.s are obsessed and consumed but also fantastically intelligent and capable of learning. They're clever…"
His face pale, Rhys took a step back from the armory cabinet, "The only thing that's missing is the cloned assassin soldiers."
"Those," Ianto responded, his face totally serious, "are stored somewhere else in the facility and according to policy shall be used only as a last resort."
Rhys shook his head disbelievingly, "All this and yet Jack… Jack carries around that old World War Two revolver?"
Ianto smiled thinly, "Yeah, this is true. Jack has a strong preference for kinetic and ballistic guns and grenades. It's sort of charming and quaint, isn't it? He and his Webley are rarely parted. Let's just say it has sentimental value for him. But don't let that apparent idiosyncratic predilection of his deceive you. The Captain acquired and stored these, um, other weapons over the span of many, many years for a reason. He intends them to be used when the situation warrants it and I believe we're in such a situation at this very moment."
"So what are you proposing?"
The young Welshman nodded slowly, "What I'm proposing is we take these – or rather the ones I'm familiar with – from this locker and from the similar armories Jack has established in other parts of the complex and build up arms caches in various specially chosen and carefully hidden locations around the facility. Places only you and I will be able to get to; and in sufficient depth and breadth that we'll never be far from at least one of our caches. If and when Gray shows up, and if it happens before The Doctor and Jack arrive, I want to be ready for him… for them, actually, because I think the odds are quite good he'll have Gwen in tow as well."
There was a hot hardness in Ianto's eyes as he caught and held Rhys' gaze. "I want to protect Gwen – to disable her if we need to, if she's been somehow brainwashed or co-opted by him. No matter what, our first priority must be to get Gwen away from him and make her safe. But as for him, as for Gray," Ianto's steely gaze returned to the weapons locker, "I mean to destroy him. Absolutely. Permanently."
Rhys' face went even more ashen, "But Jack…"
"If Jack's here, it'll be his call, but right now he's not here, is he, and so it's my call. And I'm telling you I've had enough of Gray. He's been given not one or two but three second chances. In my own opinion, that's two too many. What do the Americans say? Three strikes and you're out, I believe it is? Well, on my scorecard Gray has struck out, Rhys. It's time to remove him from the game."
"Yes sir." Rhys straightened up and stood at attention; all that was missing was the snappy salute. "So we arm ourselves. Then what?"
Ianto narrowed his eyes. "Well, then we're going to get a crypt ready."
"A crypt?"
"Yeah. A crypt. In the morgue. I know that Gray didn't much enjoy his last stay there, and I'm thinking if he realizes we're getting his old room ready for him then he's going to have a hard time resisting a quick trip back in order to turn down our offer of a place to stay and, incidentally, to slap us around a bit. In fact, I'm willing to bet it's really going to annoy him. So he'll come back and he'll be irritated as hell. And when he does come back, we're going to be more than ready for him."
-00-
"Where there is great love, there are always miracles."
Willa Cather