Notes: Rose shows the Doctor some skills that she's learnt since she's been in Pete's World.
They finally find out what's going on and who's responsible, and Torchwood mount a rescue operation.
Chapter 9
Rose was pushed into a small cell which contained a cot and a toilet, and that was it. She heard John being put in a cell next door. 'Bloody handcuffs again', she thought to herself.
{"I know. What is it with you and handcuffs?"} John asked cheekily in her head.
{"John. What are we gonna do? These soldiers don't believe us, and Chatfield will lock us away so we can't warn anyone."} Rose stepped through the handcuffs so that they were in front of her and sat on the cot.
{"I know, we're going to have to try and get out of here, or at least get a message out…. Of course! Rose, slap your thigh three times."}
{"The transponder. Brilliant."} Rose slapped her right thigh three times, which activated and emergency beacon. It was one of John's inventions for Rose after she had been kidnapped, and now all field agents had them.
They were rub on transfers made of nano-circuits that formed a transponder. They could not be distinguished from a real tattoo and they could only be removed by a special plastic foil that they were stored on.
Activation of the transponder was by slapping them three times, or by a coded signal from Torchwood. Rose's tattoo was her name in Gallifreyan, which consisted of concentric circles, swirls and bars.
She crossed her ankle up onto her knee and started fiddling with the heel of her boot. {"You haven't told me who the people in the metallic red wigs are yet."}
{"They're not wigs, that's their hair. In the old universe they were called Caxtarids or Ke Caxtari,"} he started to explain. Rose pulled out a set of lock picks from the heel and started working on the handcuffs.
{"They come from the star system Lalande 21185, and are expert torturers. In the old universe, they were wiped out by a virus that destroyed their DNA. But that doesn't happen for another 500 years, if at all in this universe."}
{"So why are they here makin' zombies?"} Rose asked distractedly as she worked on the lock.
{"They developed an aggressive and expansionist space faring civilisation. Caxtarid Corporations will conquer Kapteyn 5, home of more than sixty sentient kapteynian species including avians and butterfly people, and they've strip-mined a dozen inhabited worlds... Rose, what are you doing?"}
{"Pickin' the lock on my handcuffs,"} she said as though it was the most natural thing to be doing whilst chatting telepathically.
{"What?! How?"}
{"I've got a set of lock picks in the heel of my boots."}
{"You've been spending far too much time with McNab."}
{"Actually, it was Alistair. He tried to keep me occupied while I was pining for you after Canary Wharf."} The lock clicked and the cuff fell open. {"That's got it."}
{"You were pining for me? Oh that is so sweet."}
{"Shut up",} she thought playfully. {"Right let's have a go at the door lock. You were sayin' about the Caxy-thingy?"} She knelt in front of the door and started on the lock, now that one wrist was free of its restraint.
{"Caxtarids. They're cruel and vicious, and usually deal in slave trading, which is why I think the Earth is in trouble…. Wait. Someone's coming."}
'Damn', Rose thought. She stood up and closed the handcuffs enough so that she could squeeze her hand in and out and then forced a wire lock pick into the ratchet so that it couldn't close anymore. She put the rest of the picks in the arm pocket as she heard the door being unlocked.
The door opened and Chatfield was standing in the doorway.
"Mrs. Smith. Fancy seeing you here again so soon," he said and then looked down the corridor. "And the esteemed Dr. Smith. To what do we owe this visit?"
"As if you didn't know?" Rose said bitterly.
"I'm afraid I haven't a clue what you are talking about, but perhaps you'd like to explain. Bring them through to my office," he commanded.
The guards indicated the direction they should walk with their assault rifles. John and Rose followed Chatfield out of the Guard House towards his office. John noticed that an articulated lorry was being loaded with pallets of bottles in the stores area of the base.
They were pushed onto the two wooden chairs, while Chatfield sat behind his desk. The two guards left the room and stood outside the door. Chatfield leaned forward on his desk, weaving his fingers together.
"So, breaking into a sensitive military facility," he started. He looked into the two plastic boxes of their confiscated equipment. "Armed, and with espionage equipment. Do you know the penalty for terrorism? Treason even?"
John scowled at him. "You know we're not terrorist," he said. "And as for traitors, isn't that the kettle calling the pot black?"
He looked over to Rose. "Did I say that the right way around? I'm never sure on that one."
"It'll do," she said, smiling. {"I have one wrist free. I can reach for a stunner and take him down."}
{"That's good to know. Hold on to that thought, I want to see if I can get him to tell us what he's up to first."} "And technically, we didn't break in. You'll find no evidence of forced entry or compromised security systems."
"Don't bandy words with me Smith. What were you after in that lab?"
"That's Dr. Smith to you Chatfield. And I wasn't after anything in that lab. It's the one you've got underneath that I'm interested in." There was a slight scuffling noise outside the door.
"What are you talking about, 'underneath'?"
Rose took up the conversation. "Come on General, you can drop the act. We've seen the alien laboratory under the biological research lab, staffed with Caxtarid technicians. That's why the contaminated bodies and samples were brought here, wasn't it?"
"You two really are delusional."
Before Chatfield could continue, the door opened and Professor Jenkins walked in, carrying a weapon that was obviously off-world.
"John, Rose. How nice to see you again," he said cheerfully. "I'm afraid the General doesn't have a clue what you are talking about."
"Jenkins! What's the meaning of this?" Chatfield demanded as he stood up.
Jenkins pointed the plasma caster at him. "Sit down General, or I'll be forced to blow you into your composite atoms."
"General. I'd sit down if I were you. That weapon is a standard issue Caxtarid plasma caster. Trust me, you don't want to be on the receiving end of it," John told him.
{"John?"} Rose asked in his head.
"You know of us?" Jenkins asked. "You are full of surprises. I really wish I had the time to talk with you."
{"Are you tellin' me Jenkins is the bad guy?"}
"I bet you do," John said. "What with though, the Prompter of Confessions, or maybe the Manacle of Flesh?" {"Yep. But that's not him. He's using a shimmer."}
"Hah! You really do know us. What a shame."
"So what's this all about then? You lot branching out into biological weapons now? You never used to deal in arms, just bodies," John said.
"Well, in a way we still are dealing in 'bodies' as you put it. Do you know the average life expectancy of a soldier on the battlefield? I'm sure the General can enlighten us." Jenkins flicked the weapon at him, indicating that he wanted him to speak.
"20 minutes," Chatfield said.
"Yes, 20 minutes. All that time and money spent training them, only to have them wiped out in the first 20 minutes of a battle. How many troops would that be if the war lasted for centuries?"
John was about to ask how many centuries so that he could give him an accurate number.
"It was a rhetorical question Doctor. But imagine an army of soldiers who were already dead. An army that creates more soldiers from the dead of its enemies. All a conqueror need do is wait for the enemy to be completely overwhelmed, and then wait for them to rot."
"And you direct them remotely using serial microwave data fed through any available transmitter," John concluded. "Brilliant. That is truly remarkable."
"What?!" Rose said incredulously.
"Oh completely sick, twisted and insane. But very clever. Welll, in a psychopathic, megalomaniac, world domineering sort…."
"Enough! Get up."
"What are you going to do?" Chatfield asked.
"Me? I'm going to a secure location to sit it out and to organise transport for seven billion dead soldiers to a war zone for my client. You on the other hand are going to the cells to become three of them. Once we've emptied the planet, we can strip its resources."
{"John. What's the physiology like on these Caxtarids, can I take him?"}
{"Rose, he has a weapon that will turn you to dust. His physiology is different to humans, you don't know where to hit him. Just play along, help is on the way."}
Jenkins threw some handcuffs at Chatfield. "Put those on with your hands behind you."
Once Chatfield was cuffed, they were ushered out of his office and back towards the Guard House.
When they entered the Guard House reception the Sergeant stood to attention and saluted his commanding officer.
"Good evenin' General."
"Good evening Sergeant. The prisoners are returning to their cells now," he said, feeling the plasma caster poke him in the ribs. "You can stand at ease and carry on with what you were doing."
The sergeant looked puzzled. "But Sir, I have to lock them in. and sign the book Sir."
Chatfield was getting agitated. "It's a security matter Sergeant. I'm afraid you don't have clearance. Give the keys to Professor Jenkins, he will be coming out before I do, he'll sign the book."
"It's a bit irregular Sir, but if you're sure Sir." He took the keys off the hook and handed them to Jenkins.
As they turned to go through to the cells, the Sergeant noticed that his commanding officer was in handcuffs.
"Hang on a minute, what's goin' on." Jenkins turned and raised the weapon. The Sergeant disappeared in a flash of white light, leaving a man shaped cloud of dust to slowly dissipate. Rose gasped in horror.
Jenkins waved the gun to indicate the way through to the cells and they went through the door and into the first cell.
"Well, it's been nice meeting you all. I'm off to make the preparations to secure the bunker now. Once we are safely tucked away, the whole base will be infected. Sorry about that, but business is business," Jenkins said finally and slammed the door shut.
Rose slipped her hand out of the handcuff and slapped John's chest three times. "They'll be worried sick if they don't see your beacon," she said.
She reached into her arm pocket, took out the lock picks and started working on John's handcuffs. Chatfield looked on in complete amazement.
"Would one of you please tell me what the hell is going on?" he asked.
"Ah, yes, right. What's going on? First of all General, we owe you an apology. We suspected you of creating and releasing the pathogen."
"Got it John," Rose called from behind him. "I can work quicker when I've got both hands free."
"Well done Love. Get to work on the General's cuffs, while I have a look at the door." Rose handed him a pick and he went over to the door. Kneeling down, he continued talking.
"Where to start? A bunch of aliens have set up a lab under your base to produce a bug that will turn the whole of the human race into mindless zombies."
"You're serious, aren't you?" Chatfield said.
"Deadly serious I'm afraid. And unless we get out of here quickly, we are all doomed," John told him.
"Got it General," Rose announced as she freed one of the handcuffs. She moved over next to John. "We're fortunate these cells are quite old and have a keyhole on the inside, otherwise we'd be stuffed."
"I must say you two are a remarkable couple," Chatfield said in admiration.
"You don't know the half of it General," Rose said with a single laugh. "John. Jenkins said the whole base would be contaminated. Any idea how he'll do that?"
"I've been giving some thought to that, trying to put the pieces together," John said. "We know the pathogen is transferred by direct skin contact with contaminated liquid, ingestion, or by a bite from an infected person. I think they plan to use all three methods to get everyone on the planet."
He had a matter-of-fact tone in his voice which Rose found strangely reassuring, because it meant it was a matter-of-fact that he wasn't going to let it happen.
Firstly, did you notice that articulated lorry being loaded with bottles outside the stores."
"Yes, what's all that about General?" Rose asked.
"That was a product recall by Vitex. Something about a batch of bottles with faulty caps that could cause the contents to go off."
"Has Pete mentioned anything to you about a faulty batch Rose?"
"No. Then again, he doesn't always tell us every little problem at Vitex."
"Mmmm. Okay, I'll give you that one. But do you remember on old Earth there was a drink that was available in nearly every country in the world?"
"What, Tea?"
"No," John said rolling his eyes. "Coca Cola. You could get it anywhere. What's this worlds equivalent?"
"Well that's Dad's drink, Vitex…. Oh my God. Are you tellin' me they've contaminated the most popular drink on the planet."
"Yeah. I'll bet you a pound to a penny that those bottles contained the pathogen."
"The bastards! Using Dad's product to kill the human race." Rose's face had a look of thunder. "I'm not havin' that John. This suddenly got very personal."
John couldn't help but smile at his 'wolf girl'. "As for the base, I think they will use the direct contact with contaminated water."
"And how will they manage that," she asked.
"I think he might activate the fire alarm."
"The fire alarm?" Rose questioned.
"The fire alarm," Chatfield said in realisation. "Of course." He looked up at the ceiling sprinkler system. The base was covered with them.
They continued struggling with the lock. "This is a big, heavy lock Rose. I don't know if these picks will cope with the levers."
"And I always wear a sports bra to work, otherwise we could have used the underwire as a pick." John was temporarily distracted by thinking about his wife's bra, when the room was suddenly filled with concrete dust.
Pete Tyler sat on the sofa cradling his sleeping grandson, slowly becoming drowsy and catching him up. He had managed to get home just after seven, where he sat down for dinner with Jackie. It had been a heavy day, what with meetings with the President and her cabinet.
Fortunately, he had Jack Harkness now, and his extensive experience of heading Torchwood Three in the other universe was a God send. Jack was able to help with the day-to-day running of his office, while he was called away to parliamentary meetings.
Rose had called her Mum and asked if she would have EJ for a bit longer, while she and John did a late reconnaissance mission. Jackie was only too happy to have her grandson for as long as she could.
So Pete had taken his son, Tony up to bed and settled in front of the football on TV, enjoying the company of Eyulf, who had snuggled into the crook of his arm and fallen asleep. Jackie had gone upstairs to have a long soak in the bath.
When his mobile phone rang, it made him jump. He must have dropped off because the score on TV was now 2 - 1. He carefully retrieved his phone from his pocket, taking care not to wake up EJ. The caller ID said Torchwood. Damn!
"Pete Tyler. What's up?" He knew something was 'up', they wouldn't call him otherwise.
It was Duncan 'Donuts' Prescott, Andy McNab's second in command. "Pete, it's Duncan. I'm sorry to disturb you at home but I thought you would like to know as soon as possible. Rose's transponder beacon has been activated."
He suddenly had a hollow, sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. There was only one reason a beacon would be activated. A field agent was in trouble and needed backup.
"Where is she?"
"Still at Porton Down, which is why I'm calling you Pete."
"Yeah, of course. You did the right thing Duncan. Any sign of John's beacon?"
"No." Duncan didn't elaborate. They were both thinking the same thing. The reasons John hadn't activated his beacon were too worrying to contemplate.
"Andy's on his way in and we've called in White and Red watches to augment Green Watch."
"Okay Duncan. I'm going to hang up now and call the President. Tell Andy he has a 'go' from me, we'll sort out the irate military egos later."
He hung up the call and realised his hand was trembling as he tried to dial the Presidents number. He touched the intercom in his ear and spoke to his house manager, Alistair.
"Alistair. Sorry to disturb you after work. But would you tell my wife that I have to go to work. You'll find her in the bath."
"Finding Mrs. Tyler in the bath would be highly inappropriate sir, not to mention unprofessional. I may just knock on the door and speak loudly from outside."
"Smart arse."
"Correct sir…. Ah, may I make an alternative suggestion sir. Miss DiMaggio is visiting with me. She says that if you want someone to watch young Master Smith until Mrs. Tyler is out of the bath, she would be only too happy to have him."
"That's very kind of her."
"No problem. She'll be with you shortly, she's…. Just putting some clothes on."
"Alistair! You old scoundrel," Pete laughed.
"Hardly sir. A scoundrel is very 'council housing estate'. I consider myself to be more of a rogue, a bit more class."
"Hah! You've certainly got class alright. Oh, my calls connecting, gotta go."
"Right. Listen up people. I'm sorry you've been called in off shift, but I thought you'd all want a piece of this one," Andy addressed the full Operations Room, as Jack Harkness walked through the door.
"Jack?" Andy asked. Blue watch hadn't been called in as they had been on shift all day.
"Deputy Director privileges," he said. "I get to monitor the situation status feeds. And if Doc and Rosie are in trouble, I'll go in with or without you."
"Yeah, I understand the sentiment," Andy said quietly. "Donuts, do you want to bring everyone up to speed?"
Duncan stood and moved to the media screen with the remote in his hand. "At 21:00 this evening, the Smiths affected a covert entry to The Defence Science and Technology Laboratory, acting on intelligence gathered earlier in the day. They suspect that the base commander, General Malcolm Chatfield was not cooperating with our investigation."
He clicked the remote to show a satellite feed of DSTL. "At 21:33, Rose's emergency transponder beacon was activated in what appears to be the Guard House. As we know, DSTL is one of the most sensitive and secretive government facilities for military research, which makes a rescue very delicate."
Andy took over the rescue mission briefing. "Right. This will be a two phase rescue. I will take a fast response team in the stealth airship to liberate the Doc and Wife. Donuts will lead the high speed ground response to secure our escape route and extraction."
Duncan held up his tablet PC. "Detailed maps and floor plans have been uploaded to your tablets, I suggest you study them during transit."
"Right people, let's suit up and move out. Alpha team, I'll see you on the roof in five."
"Andy, I'm coming with you," Jack told him.
"Good. I'll bring you up to speed on the way,"
"And me." Jake said as they bumped into him in the doorway.
"Jake, what are you doing here?" Jack asked as they moved towards the locker room.
"Bit of a long story. Cutting it short, I was worried about them, so phoned to see if the mission went okay. Donna-the-house told me they still weren't back. Phoned Mrs. T, who is in bits with worry by the way, and here I am ready to fly."
Five minutes later, the sleek, black, near silent airship was flying fast and at low level towards Wiltshire. On board, Andy was taking the team through final preparations.
"Brains, what's the latest from the satellite feed?" he asked Chrissie who was on Technical Support.
"Rose's beacon is one of five heat sources that move from the Guard House to Chatfield's office."
"Probably for interrogation," Andy said. "Hopefully just a question and answer session."
"Plan one then. We abseil down and deploy the spy-fly. There will probably be two guards stationed outside the door. Handsome, I want you to take Alpha four and five into the corridor to take care of them. Peg, I want you on the roof with Alpha six and seven." I'll lead Alpha two and three to a window behind the interrogator and deploy the entry netting. On my signal we perform a coordinated stun of all targets."
"Andy, another heat source is entering the office," Chrissie announced.
"I wonder if that's the General or an interrogator?" Andy mused. "Okay, plan two. If Doc and The Wife have been moved back to the Guard House by the time we arrive, it may be easier to use entry netting on the outside wall of the cell."
"You'll probably need a couple of passes to get through a cell wall," Chrissie informed him.
"ETA three minutes," the pilot announced over their headsets.
"Okay, final gear check team. Make sure your ropes and descenders are secure. We drop in three minutes."
"Andy, four heat signatures are leaving the office and heading for the Guard House."
"Thanks Brains. Plan two it is then. Peg, your team on the roof. Handsome, I want your team covering the corners."
"All teams stand by. I'm bringing the ship around to use the prevailing wind to drift us over the drop zone. Switching to silent mode," the pilot said.
"Oh thank God. John's transponder has just activated," Chrissie said with relief.
The side doors of the fuselage slid open and the teams stood out onto the foot rails. Nine black ropes snaked down to the ground, and six black shadows silently descended to the ground. As the airship drifted over the building, three more shadows descended to the roof and took up defensive positions.
"Three heat sources in the first cell. Over." Chrissie was overseeing the mission from the technical console in the airship.
"Copy that. Over."
One of the black clad figures approached the wall and attached a thin netting, the size of a door. The rest of the team took up flanking positions along the wall.
"Alpha team hold your positions," Chrissie said in their headsets. "One heat source leaving the building and heading towards the labs. Over…. Okay. All clear to continue. Over."
"Andy touched the control on his wrist computer and the section of wall under the netting crumbled to dust, revealing the steel reinforcing cables and the inner wall of the cell. The netting was picked up and placed in the door shaped recess.
"Alpha One, two heat sources moving towards you from the east. Over." 'Oh give me a break'', Andy thought. 'There's more pedestrians than a shopping centre.'
"Alpha Four to Alpha One, I have visual. Two guards heading this way, carrying SA80 assault rifles. Over," Jake announced.
"Can you neutralise? Over."
"Affirmative." They heard two zaps and flashes from the roof.
"Targets are asleep. Over."
"Copy that. Over."
Jack came and stood next to Andy as he prepared to activate the netting. As the wall and cables crumbled to dust, the one image that stuck in Jack's mind was that of John, kneeling by the cell door, distractedly contemplating his wife's bosom.
Chatfield saw the dust drifting past his knees and felt the cool air on the back of his neck. He turned to see where it was coming from and was met by the sight of a door sized hole in the wall that wasn't there moments ago, he was sure he would have noticed it. However, having spent time with John and Rose, he wasn't sure of anything anymore.
It was fair to say he was having a bad day. "Now What?! Who the hell are you people?"
Standing in the 'doorway', were black uniformed figures, with black combat helmets and full face, gold mirrored respirator masks, looking very much like a squad of
anti-terrorist special forces soldiers.
"Alpha One to Night Hawk. The kids are safe. Repeat, the kids are safe. Over," Andy said.
"McNab and Harkness builders. Did someone want a quote for a door?" one of the soldiers asked.
"I know that voice," Rose said with a smile. "Even through a respirator intercom."
"Hiya gorgeous," Jack said. Even with the mirrored visor, she could see his perfect smile in her mind. She stood and ran into a big hug.
