Notes: At last! Alistair finally makes an appearance (as Alistair at least).
Apologies to any military buffs out there. I know nothing about the army, so if it is glaringly inaccurate I apologize. However, in my defence, it is an alternate universe and this may be how they do it over there. (That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it)
Pete has a chat with the President, while Torchwood does what Torchwood does best and starts investigating the top secret DSTL.
The Doctor and Rose go and do some domestic, while the DSTL base commander has a chat with his chief scientist.
Chapter 5
15 years previously
Lieutenant Colonel Nigel Carruthers watched from his office window as the convoy of buses pulled into the barracks, carrying the latest recruits that had completed their basic training in Winchester.
He liked to observe the young recruits get off the bus and see how they reacted to the drill sergeant as he shouted at them to get in line and stand to attention. Some of them were intimidated and scared, some proud and brave, and others were... 'indifferent' he thought as he watched one of the new recruits step off the bus.
He considered himself a good judge of people. After active service in war torn countries and fighting terrorist insurgents, you either learned to read people quickly, or they might try to kill you where you stood.
The young man he was reading was neither scared nor brave, he was there as a means to an end. He didn't want to be here, but he probably had no choice. That intrigued him.
Alistair McKenzie, (formerly known as Andrew Morrison) stepped down onto the parade ground and looked around. He saw the drill sergeant about to shout and quickly got into line and stood still.
'Don't stand out, fade into the background, misdirection', he thought to himself. If only he'd learnt that lesson earlier on the Sutton Estate in Peckham. He might not have been forced to 'disappear' and end up in the army.
To be fair though, the last four months weren't too bad. He'd been at the Army Training Regiment at Worthy Down Barracks near Winchester, where he'd shared a room with three other lads. It was comfortable and clean and just like being in a street gang again.
The first two months were all exercise and learning about guns, with some camping thrown in for good measure. 'Fieldcraft' and 'Skill at Arms' is what they'd called it. He still wasn't keen on all the brainwashing they called discipline though.
The next two months had been problem solving and team building exercises, finishing off with the passing out parade. That part was really difficult for him. He couldn't invite Andrew Morrison's mother to the passing out of Alistair McKenzie, could he?
He wondered if she missed him or if she thought he was dead. She'd miss the money he used to bring into the flat, he knew that, and suspected that would be it as far as her concern went.
He saw his new friends with their families and loved ones and felt incredibly lonely. His roommates came over and introduced him to their families. They were really nice people and tried to include him in their conversations, and he was really appreciative of their efforts. His roommates were more of a family than he'd ever had before in his life.
One of the main skills he'd refined over the four months was fading into the background and not standing out. Using his street smarts and sense of humour, he'd managed to fit into the group but not stand out and get noticed by those in charge.
Carruthers walked across the parade ground to inspect the new recruits and give them a 'pep talk' before they were assigned to their barracks.
"Good morning recruits. My name is Lieutenant Colonel Carruthers and I'd like to welcome you to the 11th Signals Regiment here at Donnington."
"Morning sir," they all replied as one voice.
"The Republican Corps of Signals are leaders in Information Technology and Communications for the British Army. We provide the Army with communications throughout the world and promise a varied and exciting career," Carruthers started. "Although you've probably already heard the recruitment spiel," he laughed.
The group of recruits laughed politely.
"Over the next few weeks you'll be finding your way around the base, you know the kind of thing, who's who and what's what. The Sergeant here will show you how we do things, so pay attention to what he tells you. Carry on Sergeant."
"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir," the sergeant said with a salute. The recruits all saluted as well.
"Right you lot!" the sergeant said. "Listen for your names and assignments to your barracks."
The next day, bright and early' (well actually it was dim and very early) they were on a 5K run before breakfast. After showers and breakfast, they were in the classroom for their orientation and course selection.
Alistair had decided that he wanted to try for Communication Systems Engineer. He could learn how to set up and repair digital communication systems, and study ultra-high frequency radio, becoming expert in the use of satellite technology.
That was cutting edge stuff. Apparently he would also learn advanced computing skills, allowing him to set up, operate and repair communication networks used on the battlefield.
Also he'd heard, he would help create and manage digital exchanges, video links and networks, mastering software from leading companies and learning to configure internet networks. Apart from all the discipline stuff and square bashing, he reckoned he was going to enjoy his time here.
"Madam President, it's Director Tyler," Pete said in an officious tone of voice.
"Hello Pete. Are you still mad at me for sending in UNIT to collect those samples?"
"Nah, I'm mad at you for letting yourself be hoodwinked by some wanker in the Ministry of Defence."
"What do you mean?" she asked him, slightly concerned.
"Well, we managed to run some test before we lost the samples," he lied. He didn't want anyone to know that they had samples to work on. They might be needed as evidence in a prosecution.
"Can we 'talk'?" he asked her.
She knew what he meant. "Yes, this line and my office are secure."
"It is not an alien infection. In fact its very human, E-Coli. Someone has been messing about with its DNA, making it deadly."
"What!? Who would do such a thing Pete?"
"Harri, at the moment those tissue samples are on their way to Porton Down, probably never to be seen again in an attempt to bury the evidence. Only it doesn't matter, because we've got another two victims at the hospital to take samples from."
"Two more! Oh my God, what are we dealing with here Pete?"
"I honestly don't know at the moment Harri, but I've got my best team on it."
"Is there anything you need from me?"
"Yes there is actually. Torchwood needs full jurisdiction on this one if you want to catch those responsible."
"Of course Pete, just a moment." He heard her activate the intercom in her office. "Justin, contact the office of the Defence Minister and tell Geoffrey Miller that I want to see him now. And tell him it isn't for a social chit-chat."
Pete heard her secretary respond and then come back to him. "Do what you have to Pete. You have my full backing, as always."
"My technical lead is accessing Porton Down as we speak, you may get some reports of attempted intrusions into secure servers."
"Don't worry, I'll tell them you're testing security after an attempted hack."
"Thanks Harri, I'll keep you updated. Speak to you soon. Bye."
He put the phone down and opened the intercom to Special Operations.
"Chrissie, we've got government sanction on this. Be as brazen as you like getting that information."
"I'm nearly there Pete, and I do have my reputation to maintain," she said light heartedly.
A few minutes after Pete's call, Chrissie gained access to the HR records at Porton Down.
"OK John, give me some names," she said
"Try Philip Coyne."
She typed in the name into the database search and drew a blank. "No, not there," she declared.
"Damn. I thought we were onto something then," John replied. "What about the girlfriend, Janet Parkes?"
"Two people with the surname Parkes. No way to know if they are related though."
"Mmmm. Okay, we'll have to wait and see what the victim support counsellors come up with," he said.
John ran his hand through his hair and pulled his earlobe whilst deep in thought. He was the scientific lead and needed to coordinate a response.
"Right. As Nicholas Fisher is the first victim, let's assume that he had the first contact with the infection. We need to trace his movements."
It was 15:30 and only a half hour to the end of their shift. He would have to hand over some tasks to Green Watch for the evening.
"Jake, can you contact the police station that arrested Nicholas Fisher. See if they'll fax a copy of his statement to us, and Green Watch can go over it this evening." Jake stood and went through to Communications.
"Julia, would you start pulling CCTV footage from around Philip Coyne's neighbourhood and see if we can spot Fisher. At some point, those two met and cross contaminated."
"John, what about the samples heading to Porton Down? Do we just let them take them?" Rose asked.
"Well, we have our own samples in the TARDIS to work on. Whatever is going on here or whoever is involved, will think they have the upper hand by getting the samples back. Let's leave it like that for the moment. We know where the samples have gone and it gives us the advantage," John said.
"There's not much else we can do today, it's only half an hour before change of shift. I want to get back into the TARDIS and do some more tests on the samples." John started to move out of the Operations Room into the Standby Room and the TARDIS.
"Wait for me," Rose said. "I'll give you a hand."
John grinned at her. "I've already got one waiting in the lab thanks. But thanks for the offer."
In the Med-Lab, John was using his sonic screwdriver on the bitten sample. It was making its usual warbling whistle. In the corner of her eye, Rose caught some movement that made her jump.
"Aaah!" Rose exclaimed as she looked at the zombie hand.
"What's up Love?" John asked as he stopped scanning and went over to her.
"I could swear I saw one of the fingers moving."
John moved in close and scrutinised the hand. "Which finger?"
"It was only through the corner of my eye, but I think it was the index."
"Mmmm. I wonder?" John held up his sonic and activated it. The hand remained stubbornly inert. He started to change the settings, when all the fingers suddenly flexed, causing the hand to 'jump'.
"Gotcha!" John exclaimed. "That's fascinating. I'll tell you what Rose, I reckon if I modulate the frequencies, I could get the hand to walk on the fingers."
"You're kiddin me."
"No, I think that's a little project for me later." Rose could see by his expression that he was deep in thought about something. He suddenly put on his smile. "Well, that's the end of our shift. Let's go and hand over to Green Watch and go and get changed."
They took the TARDIS home and then drove to Tyler Mansion via Waitrose to pick up some groceries and 'Former John's' supplies.
"How's he been Mum?" Rose asked as she lifted their son out of his 'bouncer' in the lounge, giving him a big cuddle and kiss. It was a redundant question really; they both knew he had been fine.
"He tried to bite Pro-droid," Tony told them, who had been playing with his action figures and explaining to EJ the plot of their imaginary adventure.
"He's been a little angel, haven't ya," Jackie said, tickling his tummy. "I don't think I've ever seen such a contented baby, even when he was teethin'."
What Jackie didn't know was that both Rose and John were able to feel his emotions and telepathically soothe him if he became upset. Rose was still learning to develop her abilities, but when EJ was teething, John was able to induce the release of endorphins and ease the soreness in his gums.
"Well young man, we'd better get you home and have some dinner, hadn't we. Yes we had," Rose cooed at him and he responded with a big smile.
John picked up the baby bag and they headed for the door. "Thanks Jackie, we'll see you in the morning."
"Okay, give Grandma a kiss then." She 'munched' EJ's cheek, which elicited a chuckle from him.
In the kitchen of their home, John and Rose's telepathic abilities were manifest without them realising it. Putting away the groceries and preparing the meal was like a ballet, each of them moving around and realising what the other was doing.
Occasionally, they would pass each other and steal a quick kiss as they went. Rose was chopping vegetables and suddenly and onion or a pepper would appear when she needed it, followed by a quick kiss on the side of her neck or a nibble of her ear. Cooking had never been so much fun (or so arousing) when she was living on her own.
General Chatfield was sitting at the desk in his office, reading over last week's security bulletins and preparing a report for the Ministry, when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in." The door opened and Professor David Jenkins walked in.
"You wanted to see me General?" he asked, a degree of curiosity in his voice. The General tended to leave the civilian scientists to their own devices, as long as they didn't cause any problems.
"Ah yes Professor, thank you for popping in. Please have a seat." He indicated one of the wooden chairs. "You safely received the consignment of contaminated tissue samples from Torchwood?"
"Yes General. We have them in the secure containment area, although I don't understand why. Torchwood are eminently more qualified to examine the samples with their superior technology."
"Yes Professor, but the Minister wanted this outbreak to be handled by the military. I have full confidence in your team's abilities."
"Thank you General. We are treating it as a Category A Priority Pathogen, the same as the Ebola virus. Work will be slow I'm afraid."
"Have you any idea what we are dealing with here?" Chatfield asked.
"We have the initial, cursory examination by Dr. Smith. He's an absolute genius you know. A lot of the new equipment we use in our lab was designed by him," Jenkins informed him.
"And the results?" Chatfiield asked patiently. He knew these science types could easily drift off task.
"What? Oh, yes. E. Coli bacteria."
"I've heard of that. Isn't it a harmless gut bacteria?"
"Normally yes, but according to Dr. Smith this one has been genetically engineered. We like to use E. Coli because it is easy to work with."
"Any idea who might have engineered it?"
"Not a clue I'm afraid. Reading the specs on it's properties, it is very sophisticated and advanced work. I don't know of any lab that could do this kind of work, except maybe Torchwood."
"Torchwood, really? Now that's interesting. Do you think someone at Torchwood would release a Category A Priority Pathogen into the environment? Why?"
"No I don't think that at all. I was saying that their laboratories may have the technology to be able to do it. Dr. Smith would never do anything like that. And as to a motive? Well it could be an accidental release, or someone has an antibiotic that governments will buy by the billions, making them very rich."
"Mmmm. That's certainly something to think about. I think I'll include your comments in my report to the Ministry if that's alright with you?" Chatfield asked.
"As long as you indicate that my comments are pure speculation with no basis in fact."
"Of course Professor, that is duly noted. Thank you for your time."
No problem General." Jenkins stood and headed for the door, giving a concerned look over his shoulder as he left the room.
Chatfield continued to write his report. He was a military man from a military family and his views tended to be coloured by this.
Torchwood! A privately funded institute, headed by some smarmy entrepreneur who liked to get his face in the media. What right did they have to meddle in military affairs?
And what about that Peter Tyler? He'd even been interviewed by Parkinson, how annoying is that? Just because he has the ear of the President. 'I wonder if he slept with her to get that position?' he thought bitterly.
And now his daughter and her husband are following his lead and getting their faces all over the media. A right bunch of 'wannabe's'. Well he'll show them that you don't mess with the military and you don't mess with General Malcolm Chatfield.
