Torchwood: Divergence
Book Two: Adferiad
Chapter 50
Jack and Ianto had returned in very good moods, the younger man had even brought back some cans of food for their feline guest, as well as a pan and litter just in case. The afternoon had progressed quietly, the Rift still less active than normal but at least not completely silent. So, everyone was pretty much present in the Hub when Turlough reappeared shortly before 6:00 pm with a large trolley of luggage.
"Johnson honestly thought she was home free," the redhead explained with a quirked brow. "Three Level 2 over the hours of the initial flight after the first Level 6 dose changed that. She was still a bit groggy when UNIT escorted her from the plane at the layover in Labrador, no clue who they were or what she was doing there. Major O'Brien said she's bound for life in prison if she's lucky regardless, and appreciated that we'd rendered her 'harmless' nonetheless. Her fate will depend a lot on what we find in her stuff. Tegan enjoyed the adventure and the friend she replaced on the flight enjoyed the day off. I have all of Johnson's baggage as well as her purse, and her flat's been sealed by UNIT till we can go through what she left behind, along with the storage block she rented in London."
"Outstanding," Jack smiled, obviously very pleased. "And more than worth the rest of the day as well as tomorrow off if you want the time."
"I may leave at lunch tomorrow," Turlough smiled back. "But I really want to see what's in her bags. All these, plus there are two large boxes here she was trying to airmail out so they'd meet her in America. I intercepted them as well. Oh, and Tegan 'suggested' that the last thing the bitch remembers is the tribunal after her botch job with the 456."
"Okay," Harkness nodded, eager to start the search too. "Gwen, tell Lois to lock up and come on down to the Hub. Then everyone will take a suitcase or box and we'll see if there's anything that doesn't belong to Johnson. Check linings, clothing pockets, everything. And we'll use the Bekaran on the lot at the end just to make sure nothing gets missed."
"Think she managed to post anything before this?" Ianto queried, carefully flexing his still bandaged but no longer sling-bound left hand. "I could run the address she was shipping to, find out what's arrived there since August."
"Already did," Turlough smiled, blue eyes evidencing a wicked gleam. "She shipped a large box in late November and a smaller one in early December, with directions for both to be held for pick up until January. I'll be going to liberate them from the US Postal Service later tonight. I sent a message in her name using her security codes, requesting they be released early to a co-worker with the correct password… which I already took out of her laptop before downloading all the files to flash drives, and fire storming the core as well as giving it a strong EMP burst for good measure. It's now an internally fried paper weight. That, her passport and boarding slip, and her mobile that I also fried after pulling the sim card from it are all she had with her when the plane landed."
"I honestly think you enjoyed this whole thing," Gwen remarked, waving Lois over as the young woman entered the Hub. "Which is both reassuring and oddly frightening at the same time."
"I told you," the slender redhead stated evenly, handing her the carry-on bag. "I hate people who turn on their team or family, and having the chance to flip the tables this time is glorious. If I'd had a way to do it without attracting undue attention, I'd've video recorded the whole thing for posterity."
The systematic search of Johnson's belongings began; every centimetre of clothing, toiletries, personal effects and their containers carefully checked. Between the woman's purse, luggage, and packages, they found high security files from UNIT, several branches of the military and Whitehall, as well as some lesser items from Torchwood. There were also pin drives, discs, and memory boards that would need to be checked, along with a few pieces of alien tech she'd obviously liberated from the Hub and Autopsy Lab.
"Right," Jack breathed when they were done. "All of her personal items go to storage tomorrow, the rest of this goes back to its proper owners via UNIT once we have copies of anything that could impact Torchwood or the Crown. If the weather's settled in the morning, Gwen and I will take the Quinstek gun into the sewers around St. Helen's. Ianto, you and Turlough hit Commander Quisling's flat and haul every bit of it to secure storage for later investigation. Take whatever you need to check for hidden items in the walls, floor, furniture, the lot. Turlough can take off for the day once you've got things squared away. Martha, see if we can borrow a couple of red caps to arrange the transport of her sealed storage unit over here to Cardiff. We can go through it later once it's within easier reach. Let them know we may have classified materials and will get them into their hands ASAP once we've determined they aren't infected with spyware or other nasty surprises. Lois, you'll be our Co-ordinator tomorrow, so plan for the kiosk to be closed for building maintenance or something. In the meantime, I think we need some serious pizza consumption to wind down the day."
Lois volunteered to go pick up the meal, Gwen called Rhys to tell him she was having dinner with the team, and Ianto motioned Turlough over to the medical bay as Martha made a quick run to the Hothouse to put away a plant she'd been testing.
"How are you with intelligent, bio-engineered pets?" the Welshman queried, pointing to the carrier on the counter top. "This is Skinnytail. She came through the Rift earlier today, and Jack says she's a post thirty-seventh century Ship Cat. She understands most of what's said to her, can write about like a very forward six-year-old, which is how we found out her name, and she's basically disease resistant. Jack says she's also telepathic to some degree but he's really out of practice, as am I, and most other humans of this time period aren't trained or even gifted enough to hear her. I get a soft, purring hum from her, but no words… maybe later with practice. Anyhow, if she stays here, she'll be Pteranodon bait, but none of the ladies can take her. Interested?"
Turlough peered into the carrier, big green eyes looking back before a dexterous little paw snaked out to undo the latch and the black feline stretched her way out onto the counter. The redhead smiled, put out a hand in greeting and had the cat grip his fingers with one of her unique front paws.
"Clever and beautiful," the young alien chuckled, now stroking the animal's head and back, eliciting a soft melodic purr. "I think my little place could use some company. Would you like to come home with me tonight?"
Skinnytail gave a trilling meow and purred louder, scrubbing her face against the thirty-year-old's hand to mark him with her scent.
"Good enough," Turlough smiled. "Go ahead and nap in the carrier for now so Myfanwy doesn't decide you look tasty, and I'll come fetch you on my way out."
With a final rub, the black cat turned and did as she was told, contentedly curling up behind the once more latched door of the carrier.
"Brilliant," the young Trion Prince grinned at Ianto. "Thanks for asking me to take her. She's perfect."
"One of the few truly innocent creatures to come through the Rift," Ianto nodded with a soft smile. "None of us wanted to see her locked away or put into a dangerous situation. There are a couple of necessities for her here. I'll help you get everything to your car when you're ready to leave."
"Thanks," Turlough grinned, heading back toward his workstation. "So, how do we safely check the various pin drives, discs, and boards Johnson was smuggling?"
"Sacrificial laptop," the Changeling behind him supplied helpfully. "I'll go fetch the one least likely to be missed from the Archives. It's a behemoth with excellent software, should be able to open anything. But it's completely isolated from the Mainframe servers and proprietary operating systems. That way if anything ugly ends up on it, we can fire-storm the drive and not have to worry about it infecting the real computers. And if it's not recoverable after, we have several better ones down there for the same sort of thing, and can just summarily destroy this one."
"Sounds like you've had to do this before," the other man commented, obviously curious.
"Only once since I joined Torchwood Three," Ianto shrugged, preparing to head downstairs into the labyrinth beneath the Vaults. "But Tosh did it a couple of times before that apparently, and there were several at Torchwood One that I know of. Most didn't get off as easily as Commander Camile Johnson has."
"Retconned to the point of not remembering the last twenty-two months and facing life in a Military or UNIT prison is easy?" Turlough prodded as the Changeling walked away.
"She's alive," Ianto stated simply, disappearing down the corridor that ran past the Boardroom.
"Well…" Turlough murmured as he grabbed the box all the possibly pirated computer gear had gone into. "Sounds like my normal way of handling traitors isn't so radical after all."
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AN: Yeah… Turlough does not like traitors one little bit… hehehehe…
"Ship Cats" are the creation of Mercedes Lackey (and mighty fine wee beasties they are). No copyright infringement is intended.
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