A/N:

LizzieHR—thank you for the "Britpick". I'll fix it as soon as I go into the site to get this posted. ;-) And yes, the teams are intentionally set up the way they are, spreading them so that if any one team is caught the others have equal chances of succeeding with the mission by separating the doctors, the computer people, etc.

………

Once again, I've taken a bit of artistic license, this time with technology because I wanted all parties involved to hear what was going on. And once again, I would like to offer up my thanks to Kitsa for her input. ;-)

In this one, I've also tried to worm my way into Johnson's head a little to sort her out. On Day One, she's little more than a cold blooded killer, but in Day Four, we see that she does have a conscience (kudos to Liz May Brice, what a fantastic actress!) What we didn't get was much reconciliation between the woman who shot Rapesh in cold blood and the woman who appeared to have genuine sympathy towards Alice, who eventually helped Jack…albeit with the same heavy-handed efficiency as always.


Chapter Twenty Two:
Day Four Part Three

"Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak;
courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen."

Winston Churchill


By the time Lois had delivered Torchwood's ultimatum—a very simple diktat that if the Prime Minister didn't allow Jack Harkness access to the alien, his team would go public with every single word that had been spoken in the Gold Command meeting—Abby had her laptop set up in Sarah Jane's attic so that she and the Hub 2 were linked via webcam. More importantly, however, they could both see everything Lois was doing and saying, everything every self centred politician in that room said and did to cover their own skins. If either Gwen or Abby of them were suddenly arrested (or worse, killed), the other could continue to communicate with Lois, would be able to tell her that there was a team on stand by to extract her if it became necessary.

Bobby handed Sarah Jane the disk with the data from the tests that had been run on the children back at Princeton Plainsboro on Day One. It was hard to believe this had started less than a week ago… four days. Four days and every elected official in the world was throwing up their hands, giving up, without a fight. "I don't know any more how much this will help," the Australian told her. He was exhausted to the bone, they all were, but they weren't done fighting. They would never be done fighting, not while they were still alive.

"We'll get this loaded in and see what Mr Smith makes of it," she told him. "Every little bit of information helps, Bobby," she assured him.

"Let me have a look," Harry leant in, donning a pair of half moon glasses. "I started out my career as a medical doctor, you know. Maybe if we put our heads together—"

"Whoa!" Abby cried out suddenly when Mr Smith, the semi-sentient alien computer in Sarah Jane's attic, linked itself…himself… into her computer and split the screen to display a satellite feed to her. "This is too cool!" she grinned. It faded in an instant. "Ut-oh—Gwen, you have company," she said into the webcam. "It looks like…two jeeps just pulled up outside the warehouse. They're armed… guys, this is it. Please be careful!" She hated this part, she hated not being there, not being able to help, having to just watch it all from a distance. A sturdy hand on her shoulder brought a modicum of comfort; it was Harry Sullivan. She favoured him with a tight lipped smile.

On the screen, Gwen nodded, acknowledging the warning. Truthfully, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Everybody should be in place.

She leaned back in her chair and looked to the others; Clem was the only one who appeared worried (panicked was more like it), but that didn't mean that, perfect timing or not, Sara and Mickey weren't just as nervous as he was. Abby was right. This was it.

"Face down on the floor, all of you!" a female voice boomed through the quiet warehouse from behind them. "I said face down on the floor! Hands on your heads!" she ordered again when the remained seated.

At the second command, Clem MacDonald stood, upturning his chair in his haste to comply. The other three remained where they were, turning slowly to face the intruders.

"Did you hear me!" the woman bellowed.

"Of course we did," Mickey replied. "You're shouting. 'Sides, it's not like we weren't expecting you."

"What?" she seemed taken aback.

Gwen favoured her with a lazy smile. "Traced our calls, have you?" she inquired. "Why don't you come over here and see what else we've been up to?" she invited. "You might learn a thing or two about the people you've been working for."

Johnson edged forwards slowly, her gaze darting around the warehouse, as if she was expecting a trap. "Where are the others? There should be more of you."

"They left," Gwen told her, her tone still calm. Friendly. "I said we were expecting you, not that we were going to make it easy for you to arrest us. Come on. We're unarmed."

Sara got out of her seat, moving slowly, and helped the frightened old man back to his feet. "It's all right, Clem. They're not going to shoot anybody."

"Don't count on it," the other growled. "I should shoot you all right now for resisting arrest."

Sara flashed a half-smile. "But you won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"You haven't yet. That means you're at least a little but curious to see what we have. Or maybe you just want to know why John Frobisher wants us dead so badly."

"You must have read our files," said Gwen. "Former police woman, a couple of former forensics investigators, NCIS special agent, a doctor from New Jersey—Mickey here," she winked in his direction. He shot over a sour look. Gwen continued. "Not exactly your typical terrorists, yeah?"

"Anyone can turn against their country—half of you lot aren't even British."

"Is that what they told you?" Mickey asked her, his tone incredulous. "That we're subversives?"

"Aren't you?" she asked. According to Frobisher, Jack Harkness and Torchwood were anti-government, anti-establishment; they played by their own rules, had done, ever since Harkness took over the Cardiff branch in 2000.

"Have a seat and decide for yourself," Gwen repeated her invitation.

"You can take my chair," Sara offered, as she eased a Clem over to a stack of pallets near by. He was shaking, but other than being terrified by all the shouting and the guns, he seemed all right.

Mickey had already cued up some of the more interesting bits of footage from yesterday.

Cautiously, Johnson took the offered chair next to him. She'd read his file; she'd read all of their files. Gwen Cooper wasn't lying about it being an odd mix. She was former police constable, admittedly little more than a rookie at the time she was recruited into Torchwood, three years ago, but hardly the sort one would expect to turn against Crown and country. The other woman present, the American, had an advanced degree in physics from one of the more prestigious universities in the United States and had worked crime scene investigation in Las Vegas…her record wasn't spotless, but it didn't exactly shout 'future terrorist,' either.

"Do you know what's going on at Thames House?" Mickey Smith asked her. He used to be an auto mechanic and had, briefly, been suspected of murdering his (still) missing girlfriend, Rose Tyler. Then he went completely off the radar for almost two years before resurfacing in the employ of Jack Harkness last year, just after the Dalek incident.

"Nobody does knows what's going on at Thames House," she told him. Smith was giving over a very sly grin. "I take it you do?"

"Have a look," he nodded towards a pair of monitors. "This is from yesterday—that one's live."

She regarded him a moment more but then turned her attention towards the screens. She wasn't in any danger after all, not just from watching, listening to what they had to say. In the end, it would all just be evidence to use against them. She recognized Prime Minister Brian Greene immediately on the live feed… John Frobisher… a few of the others… they appeared to be in a meeting, very high level, no doubt. "How did you get somebody inside?" she wanted to know.

"Just watch," Gwen advised, nodding towards the screen with the recorded footage. "Although I should warn you, you probably won't like what you're about to see."

On the screen, Frobisher was asking…something…it was in a large tank in the middle of the room, but it was impossible to make out exactly what it was… Frobisher asked it for a point of clarification, inquiring what did the 456 do with the children.

Then the cameraman went into the tank… it was liken nothing she'd ever seen before.

"Is this real?"

"It's real," the Welshwoman assured her in a tone that was difficult to disbelieve. "That's one of the children the British government gave over to the aliens in nineteen sixty five. Clem was one of those children," she nodded towards the frightened old man.

She followed her gaze. "I—"

"Clem was left behind," said the American woman sitting with him. "That's why he's here now, with us."

"But…" she looked at the old man and then back to the screen, "It still looks…"

"Like a child?" asked Gwen. "Yeah. Yeah, they say they'll live forever like that. We're not quite sure why the aliens want them, we just know they're attached to their bodies somehow. That they're using them for something."

She scowled and was about to ask what when… "It blinked!" it…the child… was looking directly at the camera, and it blinked.

"They want more children," said Sara, easing her way back towards the computers, mindful of the soldiers—they were watching the screen, too, looking as mortified and dismayed by what they were seeing as their commander. How many of them had children…nieces…nephews… Sara wondered.

"More?" Johnson looked at her.

"Millions more," said Mickey.

"That's why they've come back," Sara told her, easing over another chair to sit down wit them. "It's what those numbers meant, the ones the children were saying yesterday. That's how many children the aliens expect each country to give them."

"Ten percent," Gwen said. "They've asked for ten percent of the world's children. And the government is going to do it. They have a plan to secretly hand over ten percent of our children to those things. Millions of innocent children."

"Do you have children?" Sara asked her.

"Me…no…" she glanced around at her men. Some of them looked like they were wavering. She knew a few of them were fathers… uncles. What must they be thinking?

"We've got it all on video," Mickey was saying. "Every last word. And it's not just on this computer. At least three other copies of these files exist and they are all in very secure locations."

"What are you going to do with that information?" Johnson wanted to know.

"It all depends on your boss," said Sara. "But I for one believe that the people of the world have the right to know what their leaders were willing to do, no matter what Frobisher decides."

"That would cause world wide panic!" she protested.

"And what do you think is going to happen tomorrow," Gwen inquired, "when millions of children are taken away from their parents, never to be seen or heard from again?"

Johnson swallowed. She had a point. "What's Harkness planning?"

…………………………………………………………

Wendy took a breath and let it out again as she and Jack neared Thames House. This was really it…

"I'm going in alone," Jack told her.

"I don't understand. I thought—"

There had been considerable debate about who would accompany him to face off with the 456. Gibbs had been the first to volunteer, even though he wasn't even a member of Jack's team. And Abby and Martha both wanted first hand looks at the creature. But Jack had chosen her and she would follow him anywhere, do whatever he asked her to, even if it meant revealing herself…

He'd stopped, turned and was facing her, his hands on her shoulders, clearly understanding that she really would do whatever he asked of her now. Any of them would. "I know. And that's exactly why I can't risk taking anyone in there; we don't know enough about this thing. But hopefully," he flipped open his wrist strap and tapped a few buttons, "after today, we will," he cast a sly smile in her direction.

"Why? What are you doing?"

"Setting this to take readings the whole time I'm in there, and," he finished inputting the commands, "transmit them directly to both Abby and Sara who will hopefully be able to make any sense of it."

"What do you want me to do, then?"

"Stay here. If anything goes wrong just…be ready. Be ready for anything."

"All right."

He gave her a brief, grim, smile, then headed into the building hoping like Hell Lois had gotten through to the Prime Minister and that even if he didn't care about the safety and wellbeing of three hundred and twenty five thousand British children, he at least cared enough about his career to finally let him and his team do their jobs.

………………………………………………………….

Ianto swallowed hard as he watched, through Lois Habiba's eyes, Jack entering the room with the alien, on the monitor that was set up in the Gold Command meeting. His mouth was dry and he felt like there were rats gnawing at his gut because he should be there. He shouldn't be sitting safely on the sidelines, he should be with Jack, he shouldn't be doing this alone. They were supposed to be partners and partners didn't abandon one another. He realized—had realized some while ago—that it wasn't Jack who had caused him to lose the feeling of connectedness he was so desperate to recapture. It was him. Every time he pushed him away, every time he got angry, every time he got jealous, he lost a little bit more of what held them together.

"I'm getting something new here. It's Jack!" Abby voice cut through his thoughts. "He's sending a feed from his wrist strap."

"What kind of feed?" Bobby asked over her shoulder.

"I don't know. Some kind of data, I think. And audio! He's sending an audio signal so we can hear what's going on in there," she grinned. Clever Jack! Of course he would do everything he could to keep them in the loop. "Hang on," it took her just a moment to adjust the settings on her laptop so that they could hear what Jack was transmitting.

Sarah Jane stepped behind his chair and placed her hands on Ianto's shoulders; he held onto them as they watched. Prepared to listen. "Does it ever get any easier?" he whispered up at her. "Seeing the possibility of the end of the world, knowing things other people can't ever know. Does it ever get any easier to bear?"

"No. Never."

"How do you do it?"

"Me?" she cast a fond look over to Harry. "I have my friends to rely on. My family. The people who have lived through the same things I have. The ones who understand."

The audio came through, then. Jack was speaking:

"… there's a saying here on Earth. A very old very wise friend of mine taught me it. 'An injury to one is an injury to all.' And when people act according to that philosophy, the human race is the finest species in the universe."

"You yielded in the past," the alien told him. "You will do so again."

Jack shook his head, took a step closer. "In the past the numbers were so small they could be kept secret, but this time that is not gonna happen. We've recorded everything. All the negotiations, everything the policies said, everything that happened in this room. And those tapes will be released to the public unless you leave this planet for good."

"You yielded in the past," it repeated, its inflection barely changing. "You will do so again."

"No. We won't yield. Not this time. Not ever. When the people of this planet find out the truth, you will have over six billion angry human beings taking up arms to fight you. And that may be fight you think you can win, but at the end of it the human race, in defence of its children, will fight to the death. If I have to lead them into battle, I will."

"This is fascinating, isn't it?" the creature replied calmly.

.

In an attic in Ealing, Ianto held onto Sarah Jane's hands just a little tighter. He should be there. He was so proud of Jack, he loved him so much… but he was so afraid, because that thing was too calm, too sure of itself.

"Have you made any sense of the readings from Jack yet?" Sarah Jane asked of the other three.

"All I can tell you is that the air inside that chamber is deadly," Harry told her. "Wherever that thing comes from, it's nothing like earth. It couldn't possibly survive in our atmosphere unaided."

"Mr Smith?" she inquired.

"There is still insufficient data to identify the species designated 456 or its planet of origin," the computer replied.

"Any ideas about its technology?" Ianto heard himself asking, although he didn't fully recall opening his mouth to speak or formulating the question in his head.

"No," Abby told him glumly. "It's relying on our technology to keep it safe in its artificial environment. How's that for adding insult to injury?"

"Well what if we just cut the power to Thames House…?" Sarah Jane suggested in Harry's direction. "If that thing is relying on us to keep it alive, we just turn off it's life support—"

He shook his head. "It's not that simple."

"Besides, we don't know if it came alone," said Bobby. "There might be a whole army of those creatures out there."

"The boy's right," Harry agreed. "Until we locate their ship, we have to tread lightly."

The alien continued to speak drawing their attention back to the computer screen:

"The human infant mortality rate is twenty-nine thousand, one hundred and fifty eight deaths per day. Every three seconds a child dies. The human response is to accept and adapt."

"We're adapting right now and we're making this a war," Jack answered it.

"Than the fight begins."

But nothing happened.

.

"What does that mean, 'the fight begins'?" Johnson found herself asking her 'hosts'—hosts that were supposed to be prisoners by now.

"I don't know," Gwen answered her honestly. "But I don't like the sound of it."

"It knows I'm watching," Clem announced, then. His tone was cold with terror. "It knows. It knows."

"Clem, it's all right," Gwen tried to tell him.

Johnson looked to her but the Welshwoman seemed no more able—or willing—to explain what was going on with the old man as she had been to explain the stream of data coming from Harkness. He didn't seem to have anything on him that could collect and transmit that much detailed information, yet there was no denying that it was coming from him.

"It knows I'm here," the old man repeated, sounding more frantic this time. "It knows!"

Gwen wrapped her arms around him; he was shaking. A quick glance towards Sara got her nothing but a shake of the head. If there was some technology the alien was using to seek him out, Jack's wrist strap wasn't picking it up. "Shhh, Clem, it's all right," she told him.

"Something's happening," Sara said then.

On the monitor, they heard Jack telling the alien that he was still waiting for its reply.

"Action has been taken," it responded.

"What action?" Gwen wanted to know—then as if in answer to her question, they heard the sudden ear splitting wail of sirens going off in Thames House through the live feed from Jack.

It was impossible to know for sure if was in response to the noise or if it was something more sinister, but Clem had started weeping, his hands clasped over his ears.

"What's happening over there!" Gwen shouted. Clem cried harder.

"Hang on," Mickey slid in next to Sara. "The whole buildings gone into lockdown."

Then the alien voice spoke with blood chilling calm: "You wanted a demonstration of war. A virus has been released. It will kill everyone in the building."

.

"No," Ianto breathed. Jack… Jack would survive, he always survived, but there had to be hundreds other people in that building… secretaries, mail clerks, janitors… ordinary people just going about their lives, all about to die…

"Harry…?" Sarah Jane looked over to him. Abby too, moisture glistening behind green eyes. "Is there anything we can do?" asked Sarah Jane.

He only shook his head.

"There has to be some way to override the lockdown," the American insisted.

"There isn't," he told her, told all of them. "The building is designed to withstand both chemical and biological attacks. No one can get in or out, not after the building has been sealed."

"Isn't there some kind of security protocol! You're the Deputy Director!"

"I'd have to be there—I—there's nothing I can do from here," he told her helplessly.

"The remnant," they heard the alien announce then, "will be disconnected."

…………………………………..………………….

In the warehouse, Clem screamed, crying, doubting over in pain as a dissonant screech echoed through the whole place, coming in through speakers in the computer. They heard Jack's voice calling over it, in the background, giving desperate instructions for someone to shut down the Thames House cooling system, stop up the air vents, distribute gas masks, anything to keep the virus from spreading, protect the people who were trapped inside.

He ran back to the room with the alien. "All right!" he yelled at the tank. "You've made your point! You can stop now!"

"You said you would fight."

"I take it back, I take it all back—there are hundreds of people in this building! They didn't ask for this fight, I did! Don't kill them because of me! Please!" All those people… all of the ordinary people, innocent men and women who hadn't done anything but come to work today, just like any other day… "Please, you can stop this! We can talk, find some other solution!"

"You will die," the alien told him. "And tomorrow your people will hand over the children."

……………………………………….…………….

Clem crumbled to the floor in Gwen's arms, blood oozing from his ears…his nose….mouth. Sara—Mickey—they were with her, holding him, while the soldiers looked on… they didn't know what else to do.

"Shut it off!" Gwen yelled to the woman still sitting by the computers. "Turn off the computer—!"

"Gwen, it's too late," Sara told her. "He's gone."

"No…no…" she tried not to cry, but he was gone…

……………………………………………………

Through the web cam, Sarah Jane, Ianto, the others, saw enough to understand what had happened, what the alien meant by 'disconnecting' the remnant. Bobby slid his arms around Abby's shoulders as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"It's not fair," she told him. "They left him alive all this time…why kill him now?"

"I don't know, Abbs," he held her tight.

Ianto watched the screen, couldn't look away; Lois was watching the monitor in the room she was in, they watched Jack die together. He heard Greene asking her if she was still feeling pleased with herself.

……………………………………………………

Outside Thames House, Wendy watched helplessly as the building went into lockdown; she could hear people screaming inside, pounding on the doors desperate to get out...she could almost smell their fear at not knowing what was happening. She was afraid, too… and then… she heard only the sirens. There was no one left alive inside to cry for help; she smelled only death.

………………………………………………………

Gwen looked up at Johnson. "Now do you see? Do you see why we can't just let them win? Do see the kinds of monsters you've been collaborating with?"

"How…how do you expect to defeat an enemy capable of…that…?" she wanted to know. "Of this?" she motioned towards the body of the old man. "How do you defeat that?"

Sara stood up. "We'll figure something out. Jack will figure something out. He's the only person who can."

"You saw him die!"

"And you saw him come back," Mickey reminded her.

"A man who can't die may have nothing to fear, but what about the people around him? What if one of you had been in there with your Captain?" she challenged.

"Are you saying you saying you're afraid to die?" Gwen asked her.

"No. I'm asking if you are."


A/N:

Brief final thoughs on Day Four...

I have to be perfectly honest that the original version of the end of Day Four was, in my own personal opinion, so beautifully, tragically sad, that I sat there for fifteen minutes not sure how I was ever going "fix" it. I hate messing with good writing and I believe that RTD told a very powerful story. Just the same, I hated the end of Day Four, I just loved it too, if that makes any sense at all. That said, I'm relieved to say that with the writing of this, I can put Day Four up on a shelf and not have to watch it again for a very long time.

I wrote parts of this twice, but ultimately preferred Jack going in alone and Wendy sitting helplessly outside the building listening to everyone die... although the virus wouldn't likely have killed her, explaining that to the haz-mat teams might have been a little interesting to say the least... sorry to have "skipped" over Gibbs... I know exactly what he's up to and so will you, next chapter! Thank you again for all the fantastic reviews, I really appreciate them.