Chapter 11

Presidential Visit

Charles Beech, the newly elected President of the People's Republic of Great Britain, entered the spacious atrium of the Torchwood Institute reception, along with the new Home Secretary, James Montgomery, and two detectives from the Parliamentary Protection Service, which was a division of the Metropolitan Police. The previous incumbent of Number Ten, Downing Street, Harriet Jones, had decided that after three successful terms at the helm, and being hailed as "the architect of Britain's Golden Age", it was time to retire and let someone else have a go.

Jack Harkness was waiting for them at one of the reception desks, along with the head of Public Relations, Marie Devautour. Camera Directors, Matt Jackson, and Chris Greenwood were there to record the visit not only for the Torchwood documentary, but clips would be released to media companies for their evening news broadcasts.

Jack walked forward and held out his hand. 'Mister President. Welcome to the Torchwood Institute.'

Beech shook his hand. 'Director Harkness. Nice to meet you at last. Harriet has always spoken very highly of you.'

Jack gave him his winning smile. 'That's very kind of her. We had a good working relationship.'

Beech indicated his colleague with a sweep of his arm. 'I don't know if you've met James before. He's the new Home Secretary.'

Jack shook his hand. 'No we haven't met. Nice to meet you.' Jack turned to the side. 'May I introduce our Head of Public Relations, Marie Devautour . . .' They shook hands. '. . . And Camera Directors, Matt Jackson, and Chris Greenwood.'

'Oh yes. That show you do,' Beech said. 'Until I was briefed by my Private Secretary, I didn't realise that it was real. I thought it was all CGI and special effects.'

Jack laughed with him. 'No. What you see is what you get.'

'Even the young lady with the wings?' Beech asked.

'Yes. Even the lady with the Wings. That's Angel Coulthard, one of our Special Operations operatives,' Jack explained.

'Will we be meeting her?' Murray asked.

'Unfortunately, she's on maternity leave at the moment,' Jack told him.

'What a shame,' Beech said. 'So, shall we make a start?'

'Of course, Mister President,' replied Jack. 'If we start at the top and work our way down.'

'I'm hoping my presidency doesn't go that way,' Beech quipped, and everyone laughed at the joke. Jack could see why he was a popular candidate during the election run up. 'Lead on then, Director,' Beech said.

'Please, call me Jack,' Jack said, as he led them to the core of the building, where the bank of eight elevators were located, along with stairwells, toilets, heating, air conditioning, and other services.

'And you can call me Mister President,' Beech said with a serious expression on his face. But he couldn't hold it though. He laughed. 'Only joking. Call me Charles, and I'm sure the Home Secretary won't mind you calling him James, would you James?'

'No, of course, Charles. Call me James, Jack.'

Jack pressed the lift call button on the wall. 'The top floor is where my office is located, along with a conference room, and the "mothballed" Dimension Cannon.'

'Sounds fascinating,' Charles said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

'Dimension Cannon?' James asked as the lift started to ascend.

'Yes. Originally, the room was a leftover from the old regime here at Torchwood, where they'd found a gap in the fabric of the universe and tried to harness the energy created by it,' Jack explained.

'Really?' Charles asked. 'Did they succeed? Free energy would be incredibly useful for the country.'

'Unfortunately not,' Jack told him. 'The Cybermen used it to escape to another universe, and later, when Pete Tyler became director, Doctor Taylor and his team modified the equipment to create a device which would allow travel between different universes. It was used to stop the approaching darkness.'

'Ah, yes. I was briefed on that too,' Charles remembered. 'It sounds too fantastical to be true, and yet apparently it is.'

'That's right, and Doctor Smith played a key role in that operation,' Jack said.

The lift doors opened, and they followed Jack along the corridors to his office.

'Oh, now I have office envy, Jack,' Charles said with a smile. 'What a view.'

Jack gave him his perfect smile. 'Not bad, is it? And it's all here because of that,' Jack said, pointing to what was the old lever room, which had been converted into the dimension cannon.

'So, this is the Dimension Cannon?' James asked.

'Was the Dimension Cannon,' Jack corrected as he led them through the door in the transparent, bulletproof wall, to the large white wall. 'This wall is the exact spot where the dimensional anomaly existed.'

'Is it safe?' Charles asked.

'Absolutely,' Jack assured him. 'The room was converted into the cannon when they found the stars were disappearing. Once the threat was neutralised, the anomaly sealed itself and the cannon was no longer able to function.' Jack ran his hand over the wall. 'It's just a wall now.'

Jack continued the tour by taking them to the roof hangar to see "Night Hawk", the Torchwood fast response airship. On the thirty second floor, Charles got his wish to meet a real alien, when he met a couple of travellers from the City State of Binding Light, who were having their ship repaired in a secure UNIT warehouse on the outskirts of London. Further down the building, Marie Devautour, proudly showed them the Public Relations Department on the twentieth floor, and the work they did to promote the services Torchwood provided.

The seventeenth floor was part of the Training Department, dedicated to physical fitness. This was where applicants for the Special Operations Unit were assessed for physical fitness, and any member of staff could maintain their own. Charles, being a former rugby player, was impressed with the high tech equipment in the gymnasium, and was full of admiration for those who attempted the assault course. The other part of the Training Department was on floor sixteen, where Chrissie "Brains" Anderson demonstrated all the tech that operatives had to be competent to use, and how they maintained that competence with regular assessments.

On the twelfth floor, Jack explained that the large, galactic, Legal Department occupied floors twelve through fourteen. He also explained about the Shadow Proclamation, and how it was a galactic version of Interpol. On the tenth floor, Chief Archivist, Josie Spencer, showed them around the Research Department, where they had access to an extensive library of records and global, online data resources.

The next significant stop was the Science and Technology Department on floor eight. Specific science disciplines, such as physics, chemistry, biology, exobiology, earth sciences, and all the additional associated branches, were located on other floors of the tower, but the eighth floor was where they were blended together. It was an open plan design, only partially divided by half walls and glass partitions. The North-West corner of the floor space was allocated to physics and astrophysics, divided by glass walls. The North-East corner to chemistry, and the South-East to biochemistry and earth sciences. Finally, electronics, bioengineering and micro engineering were allocated to the South-West corner.

Of course, this was where Doctor John Smith had his laboratory, come office, come workshop. It was near the lifts in the centre, overseeing the whole department and bringing all the disciplines together. As a paid consultant to Torchwood, John worked flexible hours, usually choosing to work at home when Rose and Blue Watch were off shift. Today though, he'd agreed to come in to represent his department during the presidential visit. He was working on a dismantled piece of equipment when Jack and the visitors found him.

'Charles. This is our Science Lead, Doctor John Smith,' Jack announced.

John looked up, and had enormously magnified eyes from the magnifying spectacles he was wearing, which made him look quite comical. 'Oh, I know who you are. You're Charles Beech, the new president,' John said, taking off the spectacles and shaking his hand.

'Yes, I know,' Charles said, with a lopsided smile. 'And at last, I get to meet the legendary government scientific advisor, John Smith.'

'Wellll,' John said modestly, as he scratched the back of his neck.

'And this is the Home Secretary, James Montgomery,' said Jack.

'Ooh. Minister of the Interior, eh?' John said as he shook his hand. 'Come to see that the security of the nation is in safe hands, eh?'

'That's part of my brief, yes,' Murray replied pleasantly, but his face remained neutral, giving no hint of what the other parts of his brief might be.

'Is that some exotic, alien technology you're working on?' Charles asked, looking at the workbench.

'What, this?' John asked. He smiled and picked up the casing to show them the Cybus Industries logo. 'Nah. It's the air recycling and purification unit from Biochemistry over there. I'm adding a pass-through mass spectrometer unit so that it "sniffs" the air as it filters it and tells them what it's filtered.'

'Oh, right,' Charles said with an air of disappointment.

Without any regard for decorum or protocol, John put his arm around Charles's shoulders and pointed him in the direction of an icosahedral framework standing on the floor. It was full of weird components, partly covered with panels.

'Now that; is exotic alien technology,' John told him with a broad smile.

'What is it?' Charles asked.

'It's part of a communication device, probably from a spaceship,' John explained. 'We confiscated it from UNIT a while back. They were going to power it up without the limitation field in place.'

'And is that bad?' Charles asked.

John pinched his finger and thumb together. 'A tinsy-winsy little black hole would have shot down to the antipode, somewhere in Australia. The shock wave would have liquefied the rock for miles around it, causing earthquakes and all sorts of mischief. Once it had nearly made it to Australia, it would be pulled back and forth by gravity, eventually coming to rest in the core.'

'That's a relief,' Charles said mistakenly.

'Ah, but the Earth is turning on its axis, so the teeny-tiny black hole is always boring a new hole. Eventually you'd be left with a cohesive pile of rubble which used to be planet Earth,' John explained with a big smile.

Charles and James looked alarmed. 'Mister President. Is it wise to have an unregulated, private organisation in possession of advanced technology which could destroy all life on Earth?' James asked, hinting at what another part of his brief might be.

John raised his eyebrows. 'Excuse me, Mister Home Secretary. It was this unregulated, private organisation which stopped YOUR regulated, military organisation from doing just that.'

['Easy tiger,'] Rose thought in his head as she felt his hackles rising. ['What's got you all riled up?']

['Oh, it's this new Home Secretary. He's an idiot. He thinks Torchwood is a threat to national security,'] John thought back.

['Wha?! He's an idiot!']

Jack tried to calm things down. 'The presidential office is well aware of the threat level of the items we have here at Torchwood, James. I have monthly meetings to discuss any issues and concerns there might be, as well as all the off world contacts we have had. Requests for asylum, residency, and a myriad of other topics.'

'There you are, James. It may not be regulated by the government, but it certainly seems to be regulated by Torchwood itself,' Charles said. 'I look forward to our first meeting, Jack.'

'As do I, Charles,' Jack replied. 'Just get your secretary to email me the date.'

If the thought of dangerous alien tech on floor eight made the Home Secretary nervous, what he was shown on floor seven made him even more so. Jack led them into Internal Security, where there was an operations desk, and several security staff, wearing pale, camouflage fatigues, and carrying assault rifles over their shoulders. Jack introduced them to Frank Poole, the head of Internal Security.

'Do those weapons have live rounds,' James asked.

'They wouldn't be much good without, now would they?' Frank replied, with his usual dry humour.

Jack cut in to try and alleviate the Home Secretary's concerns. 'All the security staff have military training, and go through regular assessments to prove their worthiness to hold their firearms licences. Any concerns are another thing discussed at the monthly meetings.'

'Excellent,' Charles said. 'You seem to run a tight ship, Jack.'

'I can't take the credit for it. It's all down to Pete Tyler really, when he took over as director,' Jack explained. 'Frank, would you like to show the President the surveillance screens and the monitoring equipment we have in the tower?'

Frank led them to the Surveillance Office, where a large wall of monitors showed various corridors, stairwells, elevator carriages, and communal areas. There were also views of the underground car park, secure holding area for hostiles, and the warehouse.

Charles leaned forwards and scrutinised one of the monitors. 'Is that a . . . a flying saucer?'

Jack smiled at him. 'A Jathaa Sunglider. It's a relic from the bad old days. It's been here years.'

'Does it fly?' Charles asked.

'Not anymore. The insides were stripped out and retro engineered years ago,' Jack told him. 'You can have a closer look when we go down there.'

'What is this screen here?' James asked, pointing to a 3D display of the tower, which had moving labels on it.

'That's the Marauders Map,' Frank told him. He saw the puzzled expressions and explained. 'From Harry Potter? A magical map which showed the position of everyone at Hogwarts. Your ID badges are detected by sensors, along with your heat signatures, and displayed on this screen. Any heat signature without an ID badge triggers an alarm, and we go and investigate.'

'Not even a mouse can get in here without Frank and his team knowing about it,' Jack said proudly.

'That IS reassuring,' Charles said. 'Isn't it James?'

'Yes, it is,' grudgingly Montgomery agreed.

The tour continued to the Multimedia Laboratory on floor six, with a demonstration of how they could enhance sound and video from grainy and distorted recordings, and turn them into useful information. There wasn't much to see on floor five, and Laura Morse, head of Human Resources, explained how they were just like any other large company looking after its employees. And it was much the same on floor four, where Alice DiMaggio explained how they looked after the mental health of the staff and also assisted investigations with offender profiling.

And then they were at a set of double doors on floor three, which led to the Standby Room of Special Operations. In front of them were a series of windows looking out across South Colonnade towards Jubilee Park and Middle Dock. On the right hand wall was a large, multimedia screen which was split into different viewing windows, showing various Torchwood information screens, a news channel, and a light entertainment programme. Facing the screen was a long sofa shaped like a square bracket, with a low table in front with cups, plates and magazines on it. There were a few men and women in the black, Special Operations uniform sitting on the sofa.

The wall on the same side as the double doors, was a large "virtual wall", which showed the Standby Rooms in Torchwood New York, Cardiff and Mumbai. There were a few operatives in the various rooms, and their names were projected above their heads by the security system.

To the left of the doors, were dining tables and chairs, with an "L" shaped kitchen counter top forming a kitchenette in the far corner. The left hand wall was a glass partition wall to the watch supervisor's office. Jack went left, apparently heading towards the supervisor's office, however, there was another glass wall, with double glass doors opposite the windows. He opened the door for them to go through into the Dispatch office, where an agent was working the Dispatch Desk.

Opposite, was another glass wall with double doors, and on their right was the office of the Head of Special Operations. They saw Andy McNab stand and move around his desk to open the glass door.

'Charles, I'd like to introduce Captain Andy McNab,' Jack said. 'He single handedly set up this unit and is responsible for the first rate performance of all the operatives.'

Charles shook his hand. 'I've heard a lot about your operation from my Private Secretary, Captain. Very impressive.'

'Thank you, Mister President, but I couldn't do it without each and every one of the members,' Andy replied, with a nod to the Standby Room where some of the agents were seated.

'Ah, yes,' Jack said. 'These are some of the members of Green Watch.'

The news channel caught Andy's attention. It was reporting a story which had happened the night before. ['After an anonymous tip off, last night, the police arrested known drug dealer Thomas Carter. He was found handcuffed to fencing at the rear of the Sainsbury's Local. Nearby was a survival knife and a holdall containing a substantial amount of class A drugs. Police won't comment on the nature of the unusual circumstances, but have not ruled out a vigilante style individual operating in the area . . .'] Andy picked up the remote off the coffee table and muted the volume.

'How many Watches do you have?' Charles asked.

'There are four Watches,' Andy told him. 'Three on an eight hour rotation, with one off shift, so that they rotate through day, evening, and night watches in turn.'

A young, mixed race woman, with short cropped, afro hair, left the Supervisors Office and walked towards them. She was wearing

the Torchwood dress uniform of knee length black skirt, jacket, white blouse, neck tab, and black, calf length boots.

Jack introduced the young woman. 'And this is Green Watch Supervisor, Zara Mohammed.'

'Nice to meet you, Miss Mohammed,' Charles said charmingly as he shook her hand. 'It is miss, isn't it? Only I didn't see a ring on your finger.'

Zara gave a single laugh. 'Yes, it's Miss. You're very observant.'

'One of the things you learn when you meet so many people,' Charles said with a smile. 'And what is your role as supervisor, may I ask.'

'Well, firstly, I do the handover from the previous shift. I ensure that all missions are debriefed and logged when completed, and when we get an alert from the Dispatch Desk, it's my job to organise the response and allocate resources,' Zara told him.

'Resources?' Charles asked.

'Yes. How many operatives to send, which vehicles to take, whether they need any additional fire power, and what type.'

'Fire power? So you have more members of staff who use weapons?' James asked.

'We do, yes,' Andy replied. 'All Special Operations operatives and Internal Security staff are military trained and hold firearms licences . . . Although, our preferred weapon is the stun gun. We only tend to use firearms when we encounter lethal force and members of the public are in danger.'

'A very commendable policy, Captain,' Charles said with a satisfied nod.

'We are currently reviewing the licensing of private, paramilitary organisations though,' James cut in. 'After the debacle with Department C4, in the Ministry of Defence, and that episode on Dartmoor.'

'We may be a private institute,' Jack said firmly. 'But we work closely with public sector organisations, such as the police and UNIT.'

'Oh, no one is questioning your institute's integrity Jack,' Charles told him, soothingly. 'It's just that we have to reassure the public that there aren't any more unregulated militia wandering around with weapons and being a law unto themselves.'

'Unregulated militia?' Zara said angrily.

'Zara!,' Andy said firmly to prevent a verbal tirade. He knew why she was so angry about that comment.

Zara snapped to attention and looked at her commanding officer with tears glistening in her eyes. 'How quickly they forget!'

Charles looked concerned. 'I didn't mean any offence, Miss Mohammed. I'm sorry if that phrase offended you.'

Andy put a hand on Zara's shoulder and looked into her eyes as he explained. 'Zara is very proud and protective of our Special Operations Unit, and of her Watch,' He turned to look at the politicians. 'February the first, two thousand and seven? I think everyone remembers that day, Mr. President.'

'The day of infamy by John Lumic,' Charles replied.

'Green Watch were on shift that evening,' Zara explained. 'I sent them to Battersea to investigate reports of robots shepherding people into the factory . . . I'm responsible for sending them to their deaths.'

Zara had received counselling for her "survivor guilt" of course, but the memories were still there, just below the surface, waiting for her to replay the events over again in her head . . .