Notes: Alistair meets a young lady and gets the courage to ask her out to dinner. He also starts to learn how to 'buttle'.
Torchwood are no closer to finding answers and the body count is rising. The Doctor and Rose decide to return to DSTL unannounced to do what they do best.
Oh, and Alistair meets Pete Tyler for the first time.
Chapter 7
14 years previously
It was Friday afternoon and Alistair arrived at the Lieutenant Colonel's house in his dress uniform. After ringing the bell, he could hear a woman's cultured voice call out.
"Samantha dear, would you get the door please?"
"Yes Ma'am," a young woman's voice replied.
The door opened and a young soldier, also in her dress uniform opened the door. Alistair had seen her around the base, she was hard to miss with her red hair and gorgeous smile.
"Hi. You must be the entertainment?" she said with a gorgeously mischievous smile.
"Alistair. And you must be the hired help?" He said with equal humour which produced a bubbly laugh.
"I'm Sam. You'd better come in." She stood aside so that he could enter.
"Who is it dear?" An elegant woman in her 40's came through to the reception hall. "Oh hello. You must be Alistair."
"Yes Ma'am. Private McKenzie, magician extraordinaire."
The woman gave a short laugh. "Nigel warned me about you," she said with a sparkle in her eyes. She held out her hand. "Dorothy Carruthers. 'Magician extraordinaire' are you? I hope we get a little preview of your abilities."
"What, like a 'try before you buy'," he said as he finished shaking her hand. Sam stifled a laugh and Dorothy smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. He shuffled them and fanned them out for her.
"Pick a card." Dorothy ran a finger over the deck and selected one at random. It was the seven of hearts when she looked at it. Alistair handed the deck to Sam.
"Okay. Now put the card back in the deck, and if you would shuffle Sam." Sam shuffled the deck and handed it back to him. He fanned out the deck again and presented it to Sam. "Okay Mrs. Carruthers, Sam will now find your card. Pick a card."
Sam picked a card at random and held it up.
"And that is your card." Sam turned it around. "The nine of clubs," Alistair announced with a hint of pride.
"I'm sorry Alistair, but it isn't," Dorothy said, slightly apologetic.
"What? Are you sure? It must be the nine of clubs!" It sounded like he was panicking.
Sam rolled her eyes. 'This guy will go down a storm' she thought. 'Can't even get a card trick right'.
"Sam, what did you do wrong?" he asked her.
"I didn't do anything. It's your trick you messed up," she said indignantly.
"It was while you were shuffling, wasn't it? You palmed the card and put it in your right hand jacket pocket."
"I did no such th…." He was grinning at her with one eyebrow raised. She realised that she had become his assistant in the trick. She reached into the right hand pocket of her dress uniform and felt a card. She took it out and showed it to Dorothy. It was her card.
"Oh bravo Alistair, bravo." She clapped her hands in applause. Sam had a lopsided smile and clapped slowly.
"Okay, howdya do it?" she asked him.
"A magician never reveals how a trick is performed. But I'll make an exception in your case…." He hesitated, he'd never been this bold before and he felt butterflies in his stomach. "If you let me buy you dinner."
Sam's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Alistair felt his stomach churn. She was going to say no, he could feel it. But then she closed her mouth into a smile.
"I have next Tuesday off. 19:00 okay for you?"
"19:00 it is then," he said trying to keep his voice calm and under control. Inside he was going 'YES! YES!' and punching the air.
"Oh how lovely," Dorothy said. "As you are early Alistair, perhaps you would like to learn how to set a table for dinner. Samantha will show you."
She led them through to the dining room and left them to it. Sam went over to the sideboard and picked up a book.
"Here, you'll need this. It tells you everything you need to know."
Alistair took the book and read the title, 'The Art Of The Table'.
"Thanks."
They spent the afternoon preparing the table, with Sam showing him where each bit of cutlery went, along with the crockery and the wine glasses. 'Talk about military precision' Alistair thought to himself, 'this is a work of art'. He understood the title of the book now.
"That's a fine table you two. Well done," Carruthers said when he entered the dining room. "I say Alistair, as you've got to hang around for the after dinner 'bit', how would you like to help out young Samantha here and wait on the table?"
Alistair would like nothing more than have the opportunity to help out young Samantha, except there was a problem.
"I've never waited on tables before Sir. I wouldn't know what to do Sir."
"Ah, right. I can see where that might be a disadvantage," Carruthers said, rubbing his chin in thought. "But you're a bright lad, and young Samantha here is obviously a good teacher if the table is anything to go by. Follow her lead and you'll be fine. What do you say?" He looked at Alistair expectantly, as though he had complete faith in him not to screw it up.
"Which side do I pass the port to?" he asked with a smile.
Carruthers slapped him on the back. "Hah! That's the spirit m'lad."
And to his credit, he didn't screw it up. In fact he quite enjoyed himself. He had never seen anything like a proper dinner party before, and Mrs. Carruthers was utterly charming. It was obvious that she had been born into a family to which this kind of fine dining and entertaining was the norm.
The dinner guests were captains, colonels, majors and their partners, and 'enough brass to make a bedstead', Alistair thought to himself. Sam would prompt him with a whisper or a nod when it came time to pour wine or clear plates.
Before the ladies retired to the drawing room to discuss…. Well, Alistair didn't know what they discussed. Knitting patterns? He doubted they discussed how 'fit' Private so-and-so was, it was time for his display of magic.
And Sam was actually correct in her first assessment, he went down a storm. He did card tricks and coin tricks, all close up and in their faces. Things were disappearing left, right and full on in the centre, right in front of their eyes.
He finally did his cup and ball trick with three whiskey glasses which apparently converted hazelnuts into walnuts. That brought the house down. After the applause had finished, he handed back watches, bracelets and a pair of trouser braces to their proper owners who all gasped in disbelief that he had been able to take them without anyone noticing.
When all the guests had gone, Alistair helped Sam in the kitchen with all the cleaning up. They had worked really well together and enjoyed each others company.
Dorothy came in to speak to them. "I just wanted to say thank you to both of you for all your hard work this evening. I think that was one of the best dinner parties we've had, and the entertainment was first rate. I do hope you will be available for my other parties Alistair."
"Yes, of course Ma'am. I'd like that. Thank you," Alistair said, genuinely touched by the offer. The Lieutenant Colonel had also entered the kitchen.
"Actually lad, after your performance tonight I wouldn't mind having you as my batman. What would you say to that?" Carruthers asked him.
"Well Sir, I'm not quite sure what a batman is. I don't have to wear my underpants over my trousers and a cape and do I?"
The kitchen filled with laughter. "See Dorothy, what did I tell you? An absolute lovable rogue." Alistair got another friendly slap on the back.
John and Rose returned from Porton Down and met with McNab in the Operations Room.
"David Jenkins is doing some brilliant work on gene manipulation, but looking at his lab and what I've found in those samples, this pathogen is light years ahead of anything he can do. I'll upload my report before we have lunch, but I can say now that the bugs we found in the zombies were not produced at Porton Down," John said.
"Good work you two. Get that report to Pete as soon as you can, he's waiting to pass it on to the President."
"No problem. I typed most of it in the car on the way back. I just need to add my conclusions and references."
They met up with Jack and Gwen in the restaurant and found a table together. As they sat down, Jake and his girlfriend Sarah, from reception joined them. They all shuffled around the table to make room.
"Where have you been this morning Jack," Rose asked him.
"Doing Admin duties with your father. One of the drawbacks of being Deputy Director," Jack said with a grin.
Rose leaned over and kissed his cheek. "At least your being here means he gets to spend some time at home with the family. You wouldn't believe the hours he used to put in."
"Oh believe me I would," Jack said with a laugh.
"How was Porton Down?" he asked.
"I got the feeling that the General didn't like us poking around on his turf," Rose said.
"Prof Jenkins was really helpful though, wasn't he?" John said.
Rose laughed. "Only because he's starting the Wiltshire branch of the Dr. Smith fan club," she teased.
"Any leads?" Jake asked.
"No. Although their facilities are top of the range, they couldn't produce the pathogen that we've seen in the victims."
"Talkin' of victims," Jake said. "We found Linda Thomas's car in Wimbledon, but still no sign of her. Don't ya think we'd have seen her zombified by now?"
"Hmm, yes you would have by now," John said thoughtfully. "Has the car been recovered yet?"
"Julia's gone out with the Vehicle Recovery team to do crime scene investigation. They'll bring it into the garage when she's done," Jake told them.
"Rose, Jack, I think we should have a look at that car as soon as it gets in," John said.
"What about Fisher, have they managed to track his movements?" Gwen asked, slapping Jacks hand as he tried to steal a chip off her plate.
"Ah yes. Now there they have made progress," Jake said. "Clive and Danny found him on a few CCTV cameras and worked out that he must have used transportation to get to Thomas's house in the time scale. They found him on the bus internal CCTV, rummaging through the bag he stole."
"Anything interesting?" John asked.
"The recording was a bit low on resolution, so the Media Lab is trying to enhance the image."
"Jack, I think we should put out an appeal for people who have travelled on that bus to check with their local hospital as a precaution," Rose suggested.
"Good idea sweetheart. I'll get Public Relations to liaise with the television companies and the press."
"Is it really that bad?" Sarah asked, looking nervous and reaching for Jake's hand.
"John ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. "I won't lie to you, it has the potential to turn into a real zombie fest."
Then he grinned. "But there again, you've got me, and I'm brilliant me. Just ask Rose." He waggled his eyebrows at her.
"And we've got the TARDIS, and at the moment she is running a synthesis programme to produce a gene specific antibiotic to neutralize the pathogen."
"Oh thank God," Sarah gasped.
"So let's get to it and put an end to this." They all finished lunch and headed out of the restaurant.
When Linda Thomas's car was brought into the Torchwood garage, John, Rose and Jack went to meet Julia.
"Hi Julia, what have you got?" John asked.
"Renault Clio. four years old. Mechanically sound with half a tank of fuel. Front passenger window smashed with glass still over the seats and footwell. It was parked in a parking restricted area, which is how it was found. The keys were still in the ignition with no sign of a struggle or a hurried exit."
John took his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and held it up. "Right, let's look a bit deeper."
The familiar warbling whistle came from the car as John scanned everything. Rose checked the glove compartment, trying to get a female eye on a woman's car, looking for anything unusual.
"Why would she just leave the keys in the ignition? Was she in a hurry, or was she expecting to come right back?" Rose mused.
"Or, maybe she knew she wasn't coming back to the car," Jack said starting to get into the 'Sherlock Holmes' mind set. "If you don't need something anymore, you just abandon it."
"John, this all looks so normal in here," Rose said, closing the glove box.
"With the naked eye maybe," John said distractedly from the driver's footwell.
Rose continued her musings. "And where did she go from here? She's not shown up on any CCTV. It's like she's disappeared off the face of the Earth."
John banged his head on the steering column as he looked up too quickly. "Ow! What did you…. Rose Smith, did I ever tell you you're brilliant? Jack, do we know what Linda Thomas was wearing yesterday?" John asked.
"Hold on, let me get my tablet." He went to his holdall and reached it out. "Okay, the CCTV in the police station has the best view. Ladies, what do we make of this outfit?"
Julia and Rose stood either side and looked at the image.
"ooh, that outfit's a bit frumpy" Julia said.
"Yeah. What d'ya think, navy blue polyester cotton?" Rose asked.
"Yes. It says very 'boring scientist' by day. But you know what they say about the quiet ones," Julia remarked with a smile.
"Who do you think you two are?" Jack laughed. "Trinny and Susannah?"
John was studying his sonic. "Well I think our fashion guru's might be onto something. Let's get a full vacuum of the seat and send the filters up to Forensics."
In the Forensic Investigation Department, the textiles specialist was examining the retrieved samples under the high power microscope.
"There are some navy blue mixed fibres in the sample, but less than expected from a recent contact with the upholstery," the specialist said.
"So not from yesterday then?" Rose asked.
"No. I'd say over a week ago. However, we did find this." The specialist put the sample up on the microscope display.
"What is it?" John asked.
"No idea," the specialist said. "It's not like anything I've seen in all my years of doing this job. Some kind of organo-metallic alloy."
At that point the intercom beeped and Chrissie's voice announced that all members of Blue Watch should report to the Operations Room.
Andy McNab was waiting by the media screens when people filed into the room. He clicked his remote and went straight into the briefing.
"I thought you should see this straight away, it's the enhanced images from the bus that Fisher took." On the screen he could be seen opening the canister.
"That's a safety container for fragile samples," John said. "And that was in the bag stolen from Linda Thomas?"
"Yes, that's right. And at this point, the bus stops suddenly," Andy froze the recording.
"Did he just spill some over his hand?" Gwen asked. Andy advanced the image slowly.
"He's wiping it on the seat!" Rose exclaimed.
"Andy, we have to get the video of everyone who's sat in that seat after Fisher and use the facial recognition software to trace them. Oh, and pull the bus out of service," John said.
"I'm ahead of you there Doc," Andy said. "The bus was pulled yesterday and isolated. Bart and John Boy are already on their way back with the DVD's. Vehicle Recovery are on their way to bring the bus into the garage. "
His face then turned very serious. "I suspect some of the faces on the bus will already be in the hospital. There have been three more admissions with pre-zombie symptoms."
"John. How long before the TARDIS is able to synthesise the antibiotic?" Rose asked, a slight desperation slipping into the tone of her voice.
"Because it's gene specific, it's going to take a while. We have to try and buy us some time. Excuse me a moment," John said and ran to the phone, putting it onto speaker. He dialled a number and they heard it ringing.
"Hello, Dr. Patterson," the voice said.
"Emily, it's John Smith."
"Oh John. We need help here. More people are developing symptoms and we have no therapies that work against this infection," she said. They could hear the desperation and fear in her voice.
"Emily. We're working on it but it's going to take time. We need to try and slow down the onset of the symptoms, you need to reduce the core body temperature to just above hypothermic. That should slow the pathogen down and allow us the time we need."
"Okay John, I'll get straight on it." The phone disconnected and John looked at Rose, she knew that look. He then turned to Andy.
"We need to go back to Porton Down, but this time unannounced. I don't think General Chatfield has been completely honest with us."
13 years previously
'Peter Alan Tyler. Millionaire. Drinks to your health'. That was the title of the article in The Economist. He read the newspaper title again and chuckled. 'Who'd have thought it when we were in that pokey little flat,' he thought.
He was on his way to Selfridges to buy a present for his wife. It wasn't her birthday, or Christmas, it was just that he could and so he would. He put the newspaper under his arm and turned to walk down Oxford Street, when he accidentally bumped into someone.
"Oh, sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going," he said to the stranger.
"No problem," the young man replied and walked on.
Pete walked down the street towards the entrance of the store.
"SIR! Excuse me sir." Pete heard someone calling and looked around. A young man in a military uniform was holding something in the air and looking at him. There was an attractive redhead in uniform next to him.
The young soldier marched purposefully towards him and held out a leather wallet.
"You dropped this sir when that young man bumped into you."
Pete took the wallet and looked at it. It was indeed his wallet. Pete looked up at the soldier and smiled.
"Thank you," Pete said. "Here, let me give you something." Pete opened the wallet to take out some notes.
The soldier raised his hands, palms facing Pete. "No need sir, honestly. But you need to take care of that though, there are a lot of pickpockets about, and not everyone is as honest as me," he said with a charming smile.
"If you're sure? Well, you're a credit to that uniform young man. What's your name?"
"Private Alistair McKenzie sir." Sam had walked up beside him and took his arm. "And this is Corporal Samantha Gardner," he said with a smile.
Pete held out his hand. "Pete Tyler, nice to meet you Private McKenzie, Corporal Gardner." They shook hands and Pete held up his wallet. "Thanks again. You two have a nice day."
"That was really nice of you," she said, kissing him on the cheek.
"Hey, that's the kind of guy I am." he told her.
"You do realise who that was, don't you?" she asked, knowing that he could have had a really big reward for returning his wallet.
"Who doesn't? He seems like a nice guy…. Oh, I've just thought. I need to go to a cash point to get some money out. Tell you what, you go to the jewellery counter and start browsing. I'll be back in a tick."
"Okay, don't be long."
"I won't," he told her and kissed her on the cheek.
When he saw her go in the Selfridges, he jogged down Oxford Street until he caught up with the young man Pete had bumped into.
"Don't you know who that was? Haven't you seen him on the news? Pete Tyler." Alistair clipped the young man around the ear.
"You don't go lifting the wallet of one of the most popular millionaires in the country you idiot. Read a newspaper occasionally and they might not throw away the key when you get nicked."
Alistair smiled his charming smile, gently slapped the man's cheek a couple of times before making his way back to Selfridges.
They were on leave, and Alistair was buying her a bracelet to celebrate her new promotion to Corporal.
When they would return to the base, they were to be posted abroad for their first field assignment with the allied forces countering terrorism.
