Heritage Genetic Research; Cardiff, Wales
Saturday, February 23, 2020
General Trefor Williams stepped out of the Torchwood van in the car park next to the renovated office building. The clothing was driving him crazy. Ianto found him a pair of lined combat boots and suitable gloves in his father's storage. It had him sympathizing with the space fleet pilots whining about his uniform designs. His uniforms were at least practical. Something his father's braces and buckles routine wasn't. He almost forgot to remove his glasses. One more annoyance. He would be glad when he could go back to Kenya and being himself.
He crossed the car park and entered the medical reception area. He held up his credentials. "Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood. I need to speak with Doctor Dera Stealey."
"What is this about?" the receptionist asked.
"Payton Borthwick participated in a research project. He went missing six to eight weeks ago. Torchwood needs everything we can get about his state of mind when he disappeared."
"Oh." The deer-in-the-headlights expression probably meant she had no idea what he was talking about. "I will find someone to take you back."
A cute, young assistant of some sort opened a door across the room. The young man made him think of Cory Lynch: attractive, well-dressed and calculating. His father would flirt with the man. Appearances, or personal amusement, it wouldn't matter. One more annoyance of impersonating his father. The general smiled, picturing a rugby player he'd seen outside the Millennium Center yesterday. His mother laughed at him, saying he was predictable. He knew that. When people tried to play him, they provided better eye candy.
"Captain Harkness, I am Simon Morse." He shook his hand and lingered. "I understand there is a problem with a former participant."
He smiled. "Payton Borthwick. I need whatever information you have on him."
"Doctor patient confidentially prohibits us from sharing information about participants."
That was debatable. The general removed an envelope from an inner coat pocket. "Leonora Borthwick was given authority over her son's medical records by a judge this morning. I have the original and a copy for your records."
Morse reviewed the paperwork. "What happened?"
"We're not sure. He's not making a lot of sense right now." That much was true. "We need as much information about his state of mind as possible. Witness statements have been helpful. But Heritage has questionnaires he filled out and medical records. Possibly video-taped interviews. It could go a long way toward determining why he disappeared."
The body language shift meant he was getting somewhere. The cute office boy was intended as a distraction. It occurred to him that Ianto didn't do much field anymore. He handled the hub and the building, but he wasn't seen with Jack. Unless someone happened to see them together socially. If Morse really was intended as a distraction, they knew something. Or someone. His fathered flirted with everyone. Young and old. His tendency to date his office staff wasn't public knowledge or shouldn't have been.
"I need to contact the company solicitor."
"Not a problem. I'll wait."
The more as he thought about it, sitting in the reception area, the distraction had more in common with Cory than Ianto. If it wasn't exaggerated annoyance at his father, it suggested other possibilities. The party planner had extensive contacts in London. With Ianto's PTSD-related jealosy issues, he couldn't imagine Jack spent too much time socializing without him. Unless his father wasn't as committed as everyone thought. He didn't want to ask those questions.
Morse returned half-an-hour later. He walked across the reception area and stood too close. The charm was back. "We have so many files to go through. If we knew what you wanted, we could find it quicker."
Kailen hacked and downloaded your entire computer database in less time than it took to consult your solicitor. "Is there somewhere we could sit and talk about it?"
"This way." He followed, reminding himself that flirting with the bait was necessary. The man wanted information. He would play the game to sell the con.
Two hours later, he returned to the car park with a minuscule amount of information, and an intense desire for a shower. Morse went through the entire handbook on how-to sexually harass your co-worker: accidental contact, innocent bumping, questionable jokes. It ended with an embarrassed smile and a phone number. He suspected his father would have found a way out of the situation before two hours.
"Jack." A tired man walked up to him in the car park. The tone suggested the man knew his father. He recognized the voice from somewhere.
"We need to talk about Beaupre."
Derrian Talbot. Shit. He overheard a few Talbot stories from his father over the years. He was never sure if Jack flirted with him because it was amusing, or there was something between them before he married Janne. Either way, the former Army man, and Torchwood operative, would quickly figure out he wasn't Jack.
"I need to get back to the hub. Ride with me?"
Talbot eyed him. "You're not carrying your Webly?"
"It was damaged."
"Who are you?"
"Jack's son. He was injured during the incident at Cattrel Industries, Mr. Talbot. I flew into assist."
"Jack has a daughter."
"Jack has several children. My mother worked with him. They kept it a secret as long as they could."
Talbot was not convinced. "Jack's injured?"
"He didn't get out of the blast zone in time. He'll be on his feet in a few more days."
Whether Talbot believed him, or not, he wasn't trusting. He started backing up. When he reached for a stun pellet, Talbot went for a gun. The general dodged and the bullet grazed his upper arm. The stun pellet hit and Talbot went down.
He tapped his ear com. "Anyone here?"
"Yep," Ianto said. "Are you hurt?"
"Yeah. Its not serious. The police need to be notified I was shot and we're handling it."
"Who'd you piss off?"
Love you too. "Derrian Talbot. Has Jack talked about him?"
"Not much."
"He's a Torchwood op. Worked with Ronald Beaupre. I need a backboard ready when I get to the garage."