Chapter 17

"She's what?" Cutter gapped, not sure he was hearing him correctly.

Lester signed and rubbed his hand across his furrowed forehead. "She's missing."

"How - how the hell could she be missing?" Cutter demanded, sure that the man must be having a laugh at his expense.

Lester sat back in his chair. "Well the fact that she's nowhere to be seen seems to imply it - "

"When was the last time you saw her?" Sarah interrupted, her face furrowed in concern.

"The last time you did," Lester replied in a matter-of-fact voice. "I went back in the interview room when I didn't hear anything from her, and it was completely empty. There was no Jenny, no prisoner, and no guard. And when I spoke to the guard who was meant to be there, he told me Jenny had sent him out a while ago."

"Why would she do that?" Abby questioned, looking confused.

Lester shrugged. "Do I look like Mystic Meg to you?"

"Sir," Becker voice interjected, as he walked in the office. "I spoke to the entrance guard, and he said Jenny left about an hour ago, and she signed out some dark haired guy with her. Sounds like our prisoner."

"Yes it does," Lester replied, looking at Cutter as though he was in on the plan. "So now she's taken to breaking out detainees - "

"There's no way she would have done that voluntarily!" Cutter insisted, feeling annoyed at the insinuation.

"He's right," Becker interjected, taking Cutter aback slightly - he didn't think the soldier had it in it to agree with him about anything.

But it turns out that he had evidence to back him up in the form of the surveillance tapes. They all gathered around Lester's computer and watched as Becker fiddled with the footage, trying to get it to the right part.

"Wouldn't it be quicker if we got Connor to do it?" Sarah suggested after minutes of unsuccessful tapping. "Oh look, he's coming up here now anyway - " she pointed out the office window to the figure making it's way up the ramp.

"For goodness sake, what part of 'don't move until the Locking Mechanism's finished' doesn't he understand?" Lester fumed.

"He's probably just wondering what we're all gathered in here for," Abby pointed out. "He's got a right to be curious - "

"No, what he's got is five seconds to get back to work before I break his neck!" Lester burst out loud enough for Connor to hear through the glass.

Connor stopped and rolled his eyes, before turning and making his way back down the ramp, looking dejected.

"There, see?" Becker said, pointing at a particular point on the screen.

Cutter leaned forward more to better see the rather blurry image he was pointing at. It was a freeze frame of two people walking down the ARC corridor; one of them was unmistakably Jenny, walking in front, and who he assumed was the prisoner following her.

"What's that?" Abby asked, touching a finger at a fuzzy black object the man in the footage seemed to be holding close to Jenny's back.

Cutter squinted his eyes, trying to get the pixilated image into focus . . . then his stomach disappeared as he realised what it was.

"It looks like a - "

"Gun," Cutter finished Abby's sentence for her, terror like he'd never felt before bubbling up in his stomach. "Oh god - "

"Now wait a minute, lets not panic," Lester interjected, his voice annoyingly calm. "It could be anything - "

"It's a bloody gun, look!" Cutter snapped, gesturing at the image again.

"So wait a minute," Sarah said in a wavering tone. "You're saying that Jenny's been - what? Kidnapped?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic!" Lester scoffed, but Cutter had stopped listening; he had turned away, running his hands through his hair, panicking beyond reason.

His wife, the love of his life, the mother of his child . . . she was out there somewhere, being held at gun point. At gun point. And he'd known nothing about it! He hadn't even noticed her being escorted out by a gun wheedling psychopath! What sort of husband was he?

Before he had even comprehended that he had decided to move, he found himself striding towards the door.

"Cutter, don't even think about it!" Lester bellowed after him, causing him halt by the door.

He turned, looking at the man in disbelief. "What?"

"There's no way I'm letting you out of here to go wandering around London in the middle of the evacuation," Lester said. "For one, it's a waste of time, and for two, it'll do Jenny no good - "

"So what do you expect me to do?" Cutter spluttered in complete incredulity as he approached the desk again. "Just leave her out there?"

"If the man wanted her dead, he would have done it by now," Lester pointed out.

"But he hasn't demanded a ransom either - " Abby began.

"Yes, thank you," Lester interrupted her, shooting her a stern look. He turned his gaze back to Cutter, speaking to him as though he was a fragile mental patient. "If we get any leads, we'll act upon it immediately, but until then - "

"Until then what?" Cutter snapped, losing his temper with all the time wasting.

"Until then, we stick to the plan," Lester finished firmly.

"No way," Cutter replied immediately. "I'm not leaving her out there in the hands of some nut-job!"

"Cutter - we don't know where he's taken her!" Lester exclaimed. "And I'm not compromising this whole operation by allowing my team to fruitlessly battle through the evacuating public to find one woman."

"That woman just so happens to be my wife, and an important member of this team!" Cutter argued. "And you're just going to leave her in danger?"

"Jenny can handle herself!" Lester yelled, his face flushed. "She's a smart woman, she'll get a message to us. But until then, she'd want us to carry on. Because when she comes back, I'm sure she'd like a life to come back to, which she won't if we can't contain the anomalies. Just for once in your life Cutter, get on with your job, and leave the heroics to the people who know what they're doing!"

Unable to hear any more of the insufferable man's words, Cutter turned with a scowl and walked out with the intention of going to check to see if any more surveillance tapes had picked up the direction they had headed in.

He wouldn't just wait and see if she could make contact - he needed to know she was okay.

She had to be.

Lester sighed and sat back in his chair, feeling about twenty years older. The rest of the team stood around, hovering uncertainly, not knowing what to do. Lester glanced around at them, annoyed.

"Well, get on with your work," he snapped to the girls.

They both scowled and shot him a dirty look before stalking off. Lester waited until the door fell shut behind them, before turning to Becker.

"Go and follow Cutter. There's no way he's going to stay here while she's missing," he said. "Check any CCTV that might show the direction they've gone."

"And what? They could be anywhere by now," the soldier pointed out solemnly. "And people are still evacuating - it'll be complete bedlam out there."

Lester placed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose, feeling the start of a migraine coming on. "Just find her," he ordered quietly.

Matt had taken over the driving, either because he was concerned that Jenny might try another suicidal escape bid or because he knew after killing that man, he'd burnt any friendly bridges between them. Jenny sat in silence with her legs and arms crossed tight, feeling uncomfortable in her still-drenched and mud-caked clothes, her gaze firmly set out of the window to avoid having to look at him.

For reason's she couldn't even begin to fathom, he seemed interested in trying to get a conversation going.

"Not long to go now," he informed her in a casual tone.

She ignored him, jiggling her foot with annoyance.

"Oh, so you're not speaking to me now?" he asked in an amused tone. "Don't tell me you're still upset about that guy? He was half dead anyway, the age of him - "

"Have you no respect?" she snapped, looking around at him, shocked at his flippancy.

He sniggered slightly. "I find it hard to believe that in your line of work, you've never killed anyone."

"Only when I've had to," she insisted coldly, her mind flashing back to when she had shot that soldier all those years ago in Leek's bunker. "When I've had no choice."

"I didn't have a choice," he argued.

"Oh, you're nothing but a killer!" she spat, looking away from him again. "Don't be pretending that you regret what you've just done, because it's perfectly clear that you don't."

"No, you're right, I don't," he said with a shrug. "Because when you've killed as many times as I have, you become a desensitized to it. If I broke down every time I pulled the trigger, I'd be completely gaga by now."

"You know what, just don't talk to me any more okay?"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"We're here now anyway," he pointed out as the car slowed down. "So be warned - if you think I'm a lousy conversationalist, I can't wait to see what you make of my colleagues."

"As long as one of them doesn't shoot down a frail old man in front of me, I think we'll get along just fine," she retorted sarcastically.

Matt let out a hollow laugh as he parked up. "I wouldn't rule it out."

They got out of the car, and immediately, he approached her and grabbed her upper arm tightly, marching her towards the door of a surprisingly normal-looking detached house.

"I can walk by myself thank you," she snarled, pulling herself away from his vice-like grip.

"I'm just making sure you don't try and throw yourself under a bus or something this time," he replied cruelly, as he grabbed her roughly again.

"Oh, I wouldn't jump in front of it myself - I'd just push you," she pointed out coldly as they reached the huge mahogany door.

He ignored her comment, and performed a very strange knocking pattern on the door with his free hand. Then he stepped back and pulled her closer into him as they waited for an answer. Eventually, the door was wrenched open, and a mean-looking middle-aged man with a bushy beard appeared, his expression annoyed until his eyes rested on Matt's face.

"Boss," he nodded his head, stepping aside for them to pass.

As Jenny brushed past him, she sensed him looking her up and down in frank appraisal, and she shuddered involuntarily, before chiding herself.

Don't show any signs of weakness you idiot, she thought firmly. Stay aloof . . .

She was escorted down a rather fancy hallway and into what she assumed had been the living room of the previous occupants, but now it had been made into what looked like a makeshift operations room. A strange computer device had been set up at the far side that she neither recognised, or had any interest about given the current situation she was in. She was too busy doing a mental head-count of the people in the room. There were two men lounging back on a plush cream couch, one with jet black hair, the other light blonde that looked almost white. They were in deep conversation with a red-headed man that was leaning forwards from an adjacent chair. They all looked around when they heard the footsteps of Matt and Jenny, and raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"We were starting to worry about you there boss," the red-haired man in the chair laughed in obvious relief, standing up.

"What, you doubted my ability to escape?" Matt asked coolly, and the man's face fell into a look of concern.

"No boss, of course not - " he stammered, but Matt cut him off.

"Is everything prepared?" he demanded, still keeping a firm grip on Jenny's arm. "The equipment, the cameras - ?"

"Yes, all taken care of boss," said the black-haired man as he stood up and surveyed Jenny curiously. "And what have we here?" he added.

"This is Jenny," Matt answered, and Jenny couldn't help but notice how his grip tightened on her slightly. "She works at the Anomaly Research Centre. I thought it'd be prudent to bring her here so we could have ARC expertise on tap."

"And that's not the only thing she can give us on tap," a man's amused voice said from behind them; it was the bearded man who had answered the door to them.

The other men sniggered, looking her up and down, and Jenny felt overwhelmingly intimidated. Her heart knocked against her rib-cage and fear flooded through her veins as she realised that there were five men against one woman, and if they attacked, she wouldn't be able to do much to stop it. But then, to her complete surprise -

"Jenny's here as my guest," Matt said, his voice commanding and foreboding. "She's not to be touched. Do I make myself clear?"

"Oh, come on boss," the black-haired man said, a definite note of pleading in his voice. "You can't have Kathryn and this one to yourself - "

"Yeah, you've got to share the wealth round," the blonde-haired man interjected, eyeing Jenny hungrily. "You wouldn't mind, would you darling?" he added to Jenny with a grin.

Before Jenny could reply with the most obscene thing she could think of, Matt snapped, "I said she's not to be touched. And if I find any of you so much as laying one finger on her, you'll have me to answer to. And I think you all know what I'm capable of," he finished, looking around at each of them sternly. "Is there any part of that that's unclear to any of you?"

There was a general murmur of 'no boss, of course boss,' from the room.

"Excellent," Matt smiled in a false-sweet manner. "Now which room is spare for our guest?"

"None of them boss, except the basement," the red-haired man replied tentatively.

"Well then Johnson, I think you've just volunteered your room," Matt said sarcastically, but Jenny cut him off.

"The basements fine," she interjected, wanting to stay as far away from all of them as possible.

Matt looked around at her for a second raising a rueful eyebrow at her. "Fine," he said eventually. "Have it your way."

Matt reclined back in what he had chosen as his bedroom, his feet up on the desk that had on it several screens, each of them monitoring a different area of the house. He couldn't help but feel quite impressed that his men had managed to set everything up so quickly, especially seeing as this house was probably occupied when they arrived here, judging by the general feel of homeliness in the place. He wondered vaguely what they had done with the people that had been living here - not that he really cared. They had been forced to choose this house to make base as it was one of the only buildings standing in their time, and so they had studied it's structure before journeying here, knowing it would suffice as an operations area for the time being. If his men had killed the occupants, then it was necessary - perhaps unfortunate that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that was life. It was unfair, cruel and often pointless. It was a lesson he had learned very early.

He focused his attention on the screen at the bottom; the one that monitored the basement. The figure of a woman could be seen leaning her back against the wall, despite the fact that there was a perfectly adequate bed next to her. She had her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, hugging them close to her.

The door opened behind him, but he didn't look around to see who it was - he could tell by the light movements that it was Kathryn. He felt her walk up behind him and rest her hand on his shoulder, leaning over him and squinting at the screen he was looking at himself.

"That her?" she asked curiously, inclining her head at the screen.

"Yes," he replied shortly.

She smiled slightly and straightened up. "Pretty thing."

"Hmm," he agreed vaguely.

"What have you told her? About everything?"

"Nothing really," he answered, wishing she'd just leave him alone for a minute to get his head straight. "After I shot that guy, she didn't want to hear anything from me."

"You shot a man in front of her?" she repeated in disbelief. "Jesus Matt - "

"I didn't have a choice," he snapped, lifting his feet of the desk and swivelling round in his chair to face her. "She drove us off a bridge and into a bloody lake to try and escape. I was just cleaning up after her mess."

"She drove you off a bridge?" she repeated, sounding amused.

"Yes," he sighed. "She's just as I expected her to be. Proud, stubborn, and with a bloody death wish."

"Or . . ." she began tentatively. " . . . she's clever, gutsy and was doing what she had too to live. She probably thought you were going to kill her after all. Since I bet you were waving your gun around as usual - "

"Well I didn't think she'd come if I just asked nicely," he retorted sarcastically.

"Right," she said in a patient tone. "And by the way, why are you watching her through the camera? Why don't you just go down there and tell her the situation - "

"No," he snapped, swivelling back to look blindly at the screen.

"You haven't even heard her side of the story - "

"And I don't want to," he interjected firmly.

"Or . . ." she began again in the same gentle voice. "You're scared that if you go and speak to her, you'll actually start to feel something for her - "

"Be careful Kathryn," he cut her off in a dangerous whisper. "Remember who you're talking to here."

"Sorry Sir," she said immediately.

He was silent for a moment as he watched the woman on the screen get to her feet and pace slightly, running her hands through her hair, looking panicked.

"Go and give her a change of clothes and something to help her sleep," he ordered to Kathryn without turning round.

"Sir," she breathed, and he sensed her nod before backing out the room.

"And Kathryn?" he added, causing her to halt by the door. "Don't be getting too pally-pally with her, will you?"

"No Sir," she replied in a cold tone before she left, closing the door behind her.