Time was irrelevant. Day
and night didn’t exist below ground; just the constant trickle of water against
the wall that made Jack’s mouth drier still.
He screamed out as the bones in his knees separated and he screamed as
he felt every bone and sinew stretch and move and tear. Then he passed out. He heard voices as he came to, the familiar
ones out in the outer room but there was a fresh voice. Familiar.
So damn familiar. His ears
strained to listen to the low whisper, the slur of the voice like a well-oiled
cog. He knew that man but from where. He reached back into his memory, as far as he
could, somewhere that voice registered. But
then another voice, reached out to him, clasped both hands around his and
hauled itself to the forefront of his mind.
Porlicanthus.
‘Whatever you do, don’t let him take the
boy, promise me, Jack.’ Porlicanthus begged
as he gripped Jack’s hand in those final few minutes before death consumed him.
‘You know I will.’
‘Say it...say it, Jack Harkness. Let me hear you say it.’ Porlicanthus growled through gritted teeth as
his body slipped between monster and human, his face a mass of blood and
blackened veins.
Jack Harkness sucked in his lower lip,
fought back the tears threatening to spill onto the bloodied man on the ground
by his feet. Porlicanthus had been shot
a few times before Jack had reached him, from those in uniform only minutes
behind him.
‘I promise.’
Jack said, through clenched teeth and bitterness as he gripped the
Webley and pressed it against the other man’s chest, and pulled the trigger.
Jack gasped and talk in the hallway
ceased. Footsteps like a dozen
typewriter keys rattling off a sentence made their way towards the rack and the
oily voice spoke into his left ear.
‘It’s funny that our paths cross again,
Captain Harkness.’ The old man
smiled. He reached a gnarly hand over
the sweat soaked shirt that clung to Jack’s taut chest. ‘Won’t be long now, just a few more clicks...’
‘Why are you doing this?’ Rasped Harkness, his throat so dry and the
rope so tight he could barely speak.
The
old man laughed. ‘I think you know very
well why I’m doing this. It is amazing
after all these years that you never changed, same man...’ the old man stroked
his fingertips along Jack’s taut body, the touch was like sandpaper. ‘as if you never aged a second. What happened to you Jack, where did you go
after you left London with that wolf man and our queen?’
Jack’s eyes gave away little to the old
man, as he peered into his eye line.
‘I heard you were dead.’ Jack rasped, staring up at the figure, the
old haggard man, with the murderous grey eyes, scars down one cheek, a wizened
old man. How he’d despised him all those
years ago.
‘Only injured my dear boy. But I adapted, like so many of my kind. And soon we will return home victorious. A new generation. Imagine that.’ The old man smiled, lost in his own thoughts. Jack struggled with what little ounce of
movement he had but it was futile. He
was going nowhere.
‘You’re not having him. I won’t allow it.’ Jack whispered loudly.
The old man threw back his head to reveal
a varicose neck line that bled down towards his chest. ‘You’re not in any position to tell me what I
can and cannot do Captain. I will have
the boy – sooner than you think!’
‘He’s a good boy. I won’t have you corrupt him.’ Jack’s eyes pinched with tears.
‘He might be, but I will improve his
knowledge and his mind and give to him what is rightfully his. You’re denying him his heritage.’
‘You’ll send him to hell.’
‘No, I’ll be sending him home, to stand at
my side, with his mother as my wife, we will be victorious and all the races of
the universe will bow down to us. And do
you know the best thing.’ He looked down
at Jack with a wry smile. ‘You’ll be
coming with us.’
Jack stared at the old man in horror.
‘So, who would want Jack dead?’ Clark asked after several false trails. It had been a long day, even longer night,
searching CCTV footage, sifting through partial plates, following up leads that
lead them to a brick wall.
‘You’d be better asking the question of who
doesn’t want him dead, or out of the picture.’
Gwen replied leaning back in her chair after another dead end threw
itself up on the computer. ‘Back when we
were a proper team we’d have the entire network of Cardiff sewn up, we’d be out
and we’d rescue our team from whatever situation we came upon. Since we’ve been back, every avenue...this is
ridiculous. It’s as if we’re being
blocked from our own system. Mitchell,
did you do anything to the software?’
‘Hmm what?’
Mitchell replied dragging a red queen to a black king to clear a path
through to the next card, more engrossed in this than in the search for Jack.
‘What are you doing?’ Gwen asked.
She slid herself along in the chair to clock Mitchell’s monitor. ‘You’re playing cards – all this time?’
‘Well it’s not as if I can do anything else
is it?’ He dragged his eyes away from
the screen. ‘I ran a full system check
on the security; I don’t touch the software, that’s alien origin I don’t even
want to mess with. Everything is
protected just how Jack wanted it.’ He clocked the team around the table,
tired, from hours of fruitless searches.
‘For the last month all I’ve been doing is searching names that don’t
even register because Jack only wants me here, he doesn’t want me working.’ He pointed out bitterly.
Gwen narrowed her eyes. ‘Actually, the names you were searching are
aliases of the people we needed you to trace.
You had 1500 variables, out of those, there should be at least 20 names
that will crop up innumerable times because of the aliases they belong to. Your job is to locate the 20 names. When Jack ran the Hub, we had a handful of
names of freelance operatives who we could contact if we needed, you were
finding the names but if you can’t handle that...’
‘Sometimes it would be nice to have been
told that and not just, here’s a list of names, now find me a connection. One name is all we got.’ Mitchell glanced
over the computer screen at Clark ‘One name out of 1500 variables, now you
can’t tell me that one man has that many aliases.’
‘What’s
his name?’
‘Todd Jamieson.’
Gwen considered the name. ‘Doesn’t register as anyone I’ve heard of
before. Widen the search that could be
an alias he went under. Jack would know.’
‘Except Jack’s not here.’ Mitchell replied returning to his game. Finding no way of completing it, he cancelled
it and played another. The screen dropped down to four hearts beating.
The cogs moved into another slot and
Jack’s cries echoed through the underground bunker, as the pain of separation
in his lower body shot though him like a fiery bolt.
Clark’s phone buzzed on the desk beside
his monitor. Uncle wanted a word. ‘I’ve got to take this.’ He said, excusing himself from the room and
pushed open the fire door into the hallway.
Gwen watched him go, she narrowed her
eyes. Gwen stepped inside Jack’s office
and closed the door. Bringing up the
CCTV for the building’s interior she highlighted the cameras for the corridor
and screened those around Clark. She
watched the young Welshman pace the corridor, glancing back towards the doors
to the office several times. He glanced
at his watch twice and talked in hushed whispers into the phone. He also kept his face away from the cameras
as if he knew she was watching him.
Marley glanced at Mitchell. She’d recovered from the incident in the
bathroom. ‘How’s your ribs?’ she asked smiling awkwardly.
‘I’ll heal.’
Mitchell replied sighing at the monitor.
‘This game is...’ he said in frustration.
‘Annoying?’
Marley added with a smile. ‘I
didn’t think you were into computer games.’
She said watching him move the face cards about the board.
‘Arcade games, I like those, but to be
honest, this isn’t my bag but what else is there to do?’ He sighed heavily. He was stuck again. Time to play a new game. The beating hearts
dropped to three.
‘That’s different.’ Marley announced as she stared at the screen,
curiously.
‘What?’
Mitchell asked as a new game dealt all the cards onto the board, how he
preferred to play instead of one row dealt at a time.
Marley inched closer to his desk in her
computer seat. She waved her finger at
the screen. ‘I’ve played this before
only I’ve never seen those hearts. Is it
an online game?’
‘Not that I was aware. Clark was playing it earlier; I just hooked
up what was on his computer.’
Marley opened up her computer and brought
up the games preset into the system. ‘Here
look see, this is what’s on mine.’ She
turned her monitor around to face Mitchell who glanced up from his own. He turned back to the three beating hearts. He checked Clark’s computer and stared at the
screen. This was impossible.
‘What are you doing on my computer?’ Clark said as he entered the office.
‘Keep your wig on I’m just checking
something.’
The Patience game was open and half the
cards were displayed. It was the same as
Marley’s. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘Are you done now?’ Clark muscled in, pushing Mitchell from his
computer. ‘What don’t you get?’ He closed down the game as Gwen re-entered
the room.
‘What’s going on?’ She called over, her eyes narrowed.
‘Mitchell is interfering with my computer.’
‘Mitchell?’
Gwen asked stepping closer.
‘I transferred the exact game onto my computer. Only, they’re different.’
Gwen stepped closer again as Clark logged
out. ‘Going somewhere?’ She asked as switched off his computer and
prepared to leave.
‘That was my Uncle, he’s taken a fall, I
have to go.’
‘Can’t social services deal?’
‘Are you trying to tell me I can’t go?’
‘Are you trying to tell me you can’t call
someone else to deal with him?’
‘He’s my Uncle, he needs me.’
‘We need you here, now tell me what’s wrong
with the game?’
Sighing Clark looked at Gwen. ‘I had to put a lock on the computer as I’ve
noticed things have been going missing, certain files are disappearing. I thought it was Jack checking up on me at
first but then I noticed other things were missing.’
‘What things?’
He
felt his phone vibrate in his hand and switched off the call. ‘Little things but also personal details I
had stored. I set a password but the
photos had been moved. I’m very careful about my personal belongings and I know
if things have been moved. The computer
keeps a log of who signed in. Here.’ Gwen watched as Clark set his phone on the
desk and re-opened his computer.
Mitchell too stared over his shoulder all too aware of what they would
find. Stabbing a finger at the screen
Clark pointed out a series of log entries that hadn’t been his own.
‘I can account for every moment I have been
away from the computer and that wasn’t even when I was in the office. I was out with Marley collecting
sandwiches. Mitchell was on this
computer claiming to be playing the card game, even though a program I had
running was on another window. And
that’s something else, he knew exactly which program was running. I don’t trust him.’ He turned and glared at Mitchell who felt a
hot burning sensation around the collar.
Gwen scanned the data on the screen.
‘Each computer has their own personal log
in details, these are your details, Clark.’
‘But they’re not me. Here.’
He thrust a notebook in her face.
‘Times and dates of when I log in and log out. I’m fastidious about these kinds of
details. I don’t however keep a password
anywhere but my head, but even at that, he’s hacked, or bypassed the
system. I’ve had to keep this log
because I know I’m not going crazy. He
has been interfering with my system. And
I want it stopped.’
‘Mitchell, anything to add?’ Gwen replied leafing through the meticulous
data hand written in blue biro, underlined in red.
Mitchell attempted to explain but each
time he sighed. It wasn’t going to be
easy stating his reasons, and second guessing the argument he knew that
whatever he said, Clark would have an answer to contradict him.
‘Well?’
All eyes focused on Mitchell now.
He could feel them boring into his skull searching out his soul.
‘I have no games on my computer, I saw the
Patience game on Clark’s so I transferred it to mine, except it’s different to
the one he now has.’
‘I’ve always had that game, its preset on
all the computers.’
‘Not mine, there were no games on my
computer, I checked, except for that minefield game which is crap.’ Mitchell sighed.
‘There’s three beating hearts on the game
that Mitchell has, it’s unusual because it’s not on mine.’ Marley called over. Gwen walked around the pool of tables to
Mitchell’s screen.
‘Where did the hearts come from?’
‘I don’t know, I never really paid any
attention to them, took it that all games did that. But I admit, I took it from Clark’s computer.’
‘You don’t have the authority to access
people’s private computers here, only Jack has that. Tell me, what else have you looked up?’ She asked, her curiosity heightened. She glanced at Mitchell who had followed her
over, he was unusually quiet.
‘It’s a game of Patience, and you’re making
it out as if I’ve committed treason.’
‘But you have.’ Mitchell spun around and glared at
Clark. Gwen raised her head from the
computer screen after taking a seat at Mitchell’s workstation. The hearts were beating fit to burst.
‘You shut up now, you don’t know anything
about me.’ Mitchell growled.
‘You
stole a blueprint for something highly classified and killed a man in the
government for it, that’s what I heard.’
Marley stared at Mitchell in disbelief,
her mouth ajar. ‘Is this true?’
Mitchell looked at Gwen for back up, but
saw nothing in her demeanour that would defend him.
‘There are circumstances behind everything
that happens Marley and it would be in your best interest to disregard anything
that is said on this matter.’ Gwen countered, before returning to the matter in
hand. ‘Now, tell me about these hearts, where did you get the game from?’ Gwen
stared at Mitchell.
For a moment nobody spoke. Clark glared at Mitchell aware that he’d
struck a chord, and Marley looked fit to cry.
Mitchell returned his gaze to the game.
‘I took it from Clark’s computer. He was playing it the other day.’
‘Then there would be a history log.’
‘No, there wouldn’t. Well there would but there isn’t.’ Mitchell said with regret. Gwen turned to face him. ‘And by that you mean?’
‘I mean...I cleared all traces of history so
nobody would know I’d been in the system.’
Clark smiled inwardly and lifted his phone
from the desk. ‘Well, that concludes
that then. I have to go see my Uncle,
thanks for delaying my time, let’s hope he’s not seriously injured.’ Clark pushed his chair in and left.
‘I think you and I need to have a talk.’ Gwen said, rising from the computer
seat. Mitchell sighed and followed her
to Jack’s office and closed the door behind him. Marley stared at the computer screen blankly,
a tear escaping down her cheek.
Jack’s office hadn’t been
touched bar the laptop on his desk that Gwen had up until just now thought that
only she was privy to. She leaned her
bum against the square edged desk, how she missed the soft wooden contours of
the old one, in the Hub so many years previous.
‘When Jack gave you the job of security I
don’t think he intended that you secretly view everybody’s computer. Jack takes security very seriously...’
‘So do I.’
‘Then you’ll understand why when you take
something from another computer you’re bound to upset someone.’
‘It’s just a fucking game Gwen, it’s not as
if there’s anything of any real value on any of these computers, and if you
wanted a secure password, dates of birthdays are not the best to choose.’
‘I don’t.’
She defended.
‘Anwen’s birthday. I figured, knowing a little bit about the
people I’m ‘working’ with.’ He said
making quotation marks with his fingers.
‘helps break down some of the barriers that we often have. So, I know that Anwen is very important to
you.’
Gwen felt uncomfortable. There was a different tone to Mitchell’s
voice, a tone she didn’t like. In a
group, he was quiet, on his own... She moved behind the desk and sat in Jack’s
chair. The leather smelt of him and she
felt instantly comforted. Her eyes
remained on Mitchell, standing beside the sofa bed that he’d slept on many a
time when he’d first arrived. Gwen began to wonder how much he had searched,
and if he knew anything of the joint investigation she and Jack were involved
in.
‘I know enough.’
‘What?’
Gwen’s eyes widened.
‘Oh sorry, you didn’t say that out loud did
you?’
‘You heard what I was thinking?’
He sighed and sat on the arm of the sofa
and stared at his hands on his lap.
‘How long have you had this gift?’
‘For as long as I can remember.’ He looked up.
‘It’s just when people think too loudly, I hear it. It’s probably part of who I am. I just want to know why you’re investigating
me and Clark.’
Clark sat in the expanse
of an outer office with triple windows covering three of the four walls
surrounding the room. A plush reception
desk with a curvaceous young blonde smiled as she answered the phone, her
manicured nails pressing the headset against her right ear, moving the
mouthpiece back towards her lips. She
did nothing for him, he much preferred Manda, the last receptionist, with a
tight bodice he wouldn’t have minded untying, except she’d received her posting
for another location. He’d been sat in
the office for a good fifteen minutes watching the world go by. Uniformed men and women with clipboards,
orders, scraps of paper, folders and instructions all to be somewhere
important, or not so important. He
missed that, the being involved in a life that wasn’t sat at a computer
searching for a name that Mitchell still claimed didn’t exist. He was certain he and the wolfboy as he’d discovered, were being
tested, put through the ringer, there was something about both of them that
amused Jack Harkness and it wasn’t because either of them was any good in bed –
not that he’d been asked, not that he’d comply.
The door opened to a dark office beside a
tall green, large leafed pot plant and a man in a wheelchair wheeled out to
greet him. The old man with the green
and blue tartan blanket over his knees to keep out the cold on numerous days
now sat in a completely housed zipped up sleeping bag for want of a better
word, covering his legs up to his waist.
Clark eyed it suspiciously, the bag and the chair were a lot wider than
usual.
‘I trust that nobody suspects a thing back
at Torchwood?’
‘No sir, we’re right on schedule.’
‘Good, then we can make plans to retrieve
the data this week, Goodson. It’s
imperative we have that laptop. Make
sure you locate it, make sure he leads you to the whereabouts.’
‘And what of Captain Harkness?’
‘He’ll crack soon, don’t you worry.’ The old man smiled, the varicose veins in his
neck pulsating black as he laughed. ‘You
can buy me lunch, we have much to discuss.’
He said as he wheeled himself towards the elevator that led down to the
underground car park.
Tomas Constantine felt
Jack’s pulse, clamping his fingers against his neck. The pulse was weak. The captain was beyond hope. His face and clothes were flanked in a cold
sweat. His eyes flickered; he could
barely keep them open. He prayed for
death, for the reset button, but he was too tightly held that he doubted if he
came back he’d be in any less a restricted condition.
Jack could no longer feel below his
waist. Earlier he’d had the pins and
needles, similar in fashion to the sprains and twists he’d suffered in other
times. His arms, his wrists, he knew the
ropes had rubbed his skin raw. In a few
more clicks of the cog he doubted he’d feel his own upper limbs or body. If the old man wanted him alive, he was
running out of time. It bothered Jack though
and he was determined to try and stay awake for as long as possible. The old man didn’t need use of his limbs, so
what would he do with them, would he reassemble them for his own use? Chunks of memory were returning to Jack, the
old man, what was his name now? Jack
searched his memory banks, sifting through names like one does through a phone
directory, it was a funny name, not funny haha but funny, odd, odd sounding, he
growled in frustration as a word flashed into the forefront of his memory but
he couldn’t get it as far as his tongue, couldn’t pronounce it. He could barely speak, his lips were chapped
and white, his pallor was pale to grey.
He tried to think of the name, tried to think of Mitchell and Gwen. Tried to remember everything of that night. What
had he missed, what had he not accounted for?
Mitchell paced the
corridor beside the two elevators. He
had to get out. He planned to get
out. He cast a glance at the camera
secured above the double doors, shining directly at the two elevators and most
definitely upon him. He heard the rumble
of the lift as the mechanics cranked it towards him. The lift doors slid open with ease. An empty carriage. He cast another glance at the camera and
stepped in hitting the ground floor button.
Gwen
watched from the monitor as the elevator door closed behind Mitchell. She tapped into the security of the elevator
itself but the camera was down. Cursing
she thought a moment and sought out the secondary camera, the back-up Jack had
put in for just this type of occasion; she knew Mitchell would have tried to
disable the camera. She pressed the
command button and the camera lit up the elevator carriage – it was empty.
‘Oh shit!’
‘Where did he go?’ Marley asked, glancing over at Gwen’s screen.
‘He can’t have gone far. Bring up the
schematic for the entire building, check the lift shaft.’
‘On it.’
Marley dragged the plan for the entire building onto the main screen,
enhancing the image she isolated the lift from Level 17 and brought up thermal
imaging to detect movement. ‘There’s
nothing on the lift shaft...oh wait.’
She enhanced further and saw a small heat signal further along.
‘What is that?’ Gwen glanced at the schematic as a blob of
heat moved along a narrow tunnel and edged towards a joint in the tunnel. ‘Hone in on that.’ She pointed a finger at the movement and
grabbed her coat and stun-gun.
‘Are you sure you’re going to need that?’
‘Jack’s missing and I’m pretty sure that
whoever has him is connected to Mitchell in ways I don’t even want to
consider. So, keep feeding me on the
Bluetooth...’
‘Mitchell has a Bluetooth too.’
‘Then call me from my mobile.’ She checked her phone, fully charged, just
like her. She left the office at a
sprint and took the elevator to the next level.
Marley kept her and the heat blob on her screen.
Mitchell inched along the tunnel using his
elbows and trainers. He was almost
through when he spotted something in the tunnel, the source of the interference
in the security equipment. A rat, but
not just any kind of rat, a Rodent Android Terminator – R.A.T. He’d read about them online, they were used
by competitors for high corporate businesses that wanted the edge on the competition.
Electronic terrorists, practically comic book gadgetry that were the invention
of some whiz kid in Colorado Springs, but what they were doing in Torchwood was
anyone’s guess. Unlike the computer, the
R.A.T. was released along with others of its kind through the physical tunnels
of office buildings. It would locate the
security system and offline the company, it would feed its own codes sent from
whoever operated it and take down the firewalls, and let in the bogeyman. It had bugged Mitchell for a while during the
initial set up of the security system.
He knew he couldn’t prove his theory, he knew that he couldn’t also
account for several items disappearing from Clark’s computer, some he was
responsible for. He couldn’t also
account for why his game had hearts on and others had not. But one thing he could account for was that
the bug alerts that had flashed up on the screen, his screen and the screen in
Jack’s office was something he’d been tracking for several weeks now. Something was feeding off their system and he
wanted to know who they were and what they wanted.
The rat size metallic creature, its red
eyes flashing to green as it guzzled it’s update from a circuit box feeding a bunch
of cables along the tunnel and beyond to the various levels, stopped as it
detected another source in the tunnel.
Its body turned to face the ‘intruder’ and scanned for threats. The source was unarmed.
Mitchell, cramped as he was in the service
tunnel pulled what looked like a phone from his pocket. He depressed the back of the device, the
cover popped up, he slid it back and lifted out the tool he required, a small
magnet attached to a length of wire. He
secured it to the jack at the top of the device. The rodent returned to its job, all the while
aware Mitchell was there.
Marley viewed the monitor and saw the heat
signal was static between floors 13 and 12. ‘It’s not moving.’
‘Can you get an ID?’ Gwen asked as the lift continued its descent. She glanced up at the camera.
‘Not yet, something is interfering with...
HEY!’ She yelled as the screen fuzzed,
buzzed and shut down. ‘What the hell was
that?’
‘What?
Marley? Hello?’ Her phone crackled.
Marley stared at the screen a good few
seconds before looking across at all the dead monitors. ‘The monitors are down. It must have been a power surge. I’ve lost control.’ She tapped redundantly at the keys.
The service tunnels were
powered by tiny sensors of light that suddenly went out and plunged the tunnel
into darkness. He heard the pattering of
metallic feet on the tunnel flooring and having attached the tool he needed to
the device selected PLAY and slid it along the floor, colliding with the
intruder. The magnet secured itself to the creature and stopped the download
midway. An array of brightly lit binary coding and
polka dots bounced off the metal walling around the creature and a high pitched
frequency whistle that could probably raise the hounds from hell screamed
through the narrow chute. Mitchell
winced, the pain between his eyes and through his ears was extreme but he had
to nail that creature before it left.
Although the data it had stored in its memory banks had stopped downloading
to the outside source it wouldn’t be too difficult to override it, if they knew
what they were doing. Mitchell didn’t
have time to consider that option.
Lights popped and arced throughout the
fire exits and a low hum could be heard echoing through the flooring vibrating
beneath Gwen’s feet.
Mitchell grabbed the creature and felt the
metal hot against his skin, he also felt the barbs cut into his palm as its
protective casing reacted to the assault.
He yelped but remained hold.
Quickly, and without considering the pain in his hand he slammed the
creature several times against the wall of the tunnel. It wasn’t about to break. He swore and crawled
rapidly with the rodent in his left hand, the device in the other to the crossroads
in the tunnel, more space to move. Up
ahead he knew there was another elevator shaft, a harder surface, if he could
just...
Marley grabbed her PDA and
ran to the fire exit, the stairs, safer than the elevator she felt. An emergency back-up generator had kicked in
but it was weaker and the computers were still down. ‘Where are you Gwen, I’m on my way down. I have the heat source on the PDA it’s
moving?’
Gwen glanced towards the fire exit
situated alongside the elevators and pushed open the door, she leaned against
the railing and peered up at the floors above, hearing the clattering of
footsteps many floors above her. She saw
the Plate on the wall indicating the floor level she was at.
‘I’m on 12.’
She said before ducking back into the warm office. The elevators were out of order, whatever had
triggered the power surge was determined nobody was going to be leaving in a
hurry. But even at that, she thought,
there was still the elevator shaft. She
put away the stun gun and tried opening the elevator doors manually, with her
fingers. She grimaced as she tried, but
it was hopeless. She glanced around for
something to help her.
The pain was excruciating, the barbs dug
deeper into Mitchell’s hand. They were
thicker than regular fishing hook barbs and he knew his hand would take a few
days to heal at this rate. He was losing
the feeling in his little finger. At the
end of the tunnel he came out at another lift shaft and stared down into the abyss. The lights from the backup generator shone
dimly into the darkness. He located the
ladder and tucked the hand held device into his pocket while the wired magnet
remained in position on the rodent. The
eyes of the creature were flickering from red to off. He didn’t want to think what that meant. He hoped he still had time. Locating the ladder with his feet he climbed
down the shaft using only one hand.
Gripping the ladder tightly he slammed the rat against the dirty metal
shaft, the legs rattled and two came loose, he slammed it again and the loose
legs broke waggling pathetically, still held together by the cables that
operated them inside the shell. It was
then he saw the body properly. It was in
two parts, the front end and the back end.
He tried twisting the two parts and felt it give, then countered that it
was likely his hand slipping deeper into the barbed body and whimpered. The eyes were becoming less of a flicker and
more of a red. He was running out of
time.
He inhaled deeply and climbed down the
ladder, he needed to see what he was doing. A sudden thought crossed his mind,
some of the earlier devices had been fitted with a self destruct mechanism,
when data had been sent through it exploded, removing any possibility of being
located to its source. Slipping on the
dirty ladder towards the elevator carriage Mitchell continued on the journey
down. He saw the carriage in sight and
jumped onto the roof, it echoed through the shaft loudly. With his free hand he pulled open the roof of
the carriage and with the lighting available stared at the bloodied R.A.T. in
his hand. His hand cut and bleeding made
him to wince but he was running out of time.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call.
Gwen felt her phone vibrate in her hand
and frowned. Flicking her hair back she
pressed the phone to her ear.
‘You’d better have a bloody good reason for
this.’ She growled.
‘Whatever you think of me, put it to one
side, I’m on the elevator on Floor 12, I need you to open the door.’
‘There’s no power and there’s nothing to
open the doors with.’
‘There’s a store cupboard along from the
elevator, in there is a manual operational door opener, propped up against the
shelving, you can’t miss it.’ Gwen
raised a brow and made her way to the cupboard and found a crowbar rested
against a shelf stacked with coloured paper and stationery. She grabbed it and prised open the lift doors
after much effort. Slightly sweaty she
blew the hair from her face that clung to her forehead and cheek. Standing dripping blood in the carriage was
Mitchell, his hand grasped around a metal rodent like robot. ‘Thanks.’
He smiled weakly and took possession of the crowbar in Gwen’s hand.
‘What is that?’ Gwen asked, following after him, her right
hand over the Stun Gun. She watched him
as he extricated his bloodied hand from the hooks on the metal creature and
raised the crowbar over his head bringing it down fiercely onto the metal
rodent. After several smashes, growls
and grunts the machine broke apart, the eyes stopped staring red, and it shut
down. Inside the creature Mitchell
picked out the small device that stored the data and sent it to its
creator. ‘Again, what is that?’ Gwen pressed grimacing at the blood dripping
from his hand onto the desk and the metal pieces.
‘It’s a device for obtaining information,
robot terrorists, it was in Computer Monthly.’
He held up the device in his hand and squinted at the minute
detail. ‘Someone has been feeding off
the information we have on the computers in this place. My guess is it’s been going on for some time
and might explain why information off our computers has been removed.’ He looked at her. ‘You’ve been hacked!’ He said pocketing the device and making his
way back towards the exit.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I was going out to find Jack, but I have a
feeling, this might tell us where he is, because whoever has been taking our
information might actually have left us a clue.
Or there’s another reason this is in the building and it mightn’t have
anything to do with us personally, considering this was a Telecommunication
building prior to you guys taking it?’
Again, he glanced over at her. ‘So,
are you coming, or do you plan on hauling my ass over your shoulder after
you’ve stunned me a little?’ He raised a
brow to match Gwen’s and grinned. ‘Look
I’m not your enemy OK. I know you’re
looking out for Jack and he wants you to look out for me, but I’m a big boy now
and I can cross the road without Mommy holding my hand, OK?’
‘Says the man whose hand is bleeding all
over the carpet and needed me to get him out of a lift.’
‘Didn’t want you to feel inadequate,
standing there with your gun an’ all!’
He pushed the door open with his good hand and held the other against
his chest. They strode back up the
stairs meeting Marley on the way, exhausted, panting heavily and staring from
Mitchell to the bloodied hand to Gwen with the Stun Gun, and her mouth fell
open in horror.
Clark sighed heavily and
slammed the laptop closed with a slap.
The Major eyed him suspiciously. ‘The
R.A.T. is down.’ He said bitterly,
eyeing the old man in the wheelchair before looking away, having failed again.
‘That is a pity, it’s fed us with a lot of
information over these past few months.’
The Major replied sadly. Wheeling himself back from his desk he stared
at a photograph in a stand of a beautiful woman with the brightest of eyes and
the deepest smile and beauty that couldn’t surely belong to just one woman, and
bit his lower lip. ‘Then it’s time to put Plan B into operation.’
‘But the game isn’t over.’
‘Jack Harkness is close to death, for what I
need him for, it’s enough, and knowing his Lazarus qualities for survival,
he’ll fuel me for where I’m going.’
‘What do you need from me?’
‘I need you to get the boy away from Gwen
Cooper and I want the blueprint that I know the boy has somewhere. We need a trade. Jack Harkness for the blueprint.’
‘But you just said you need Harkness.’
‘I also need the boy, but I’ve studied Torchwood
for years, and I know that this Cooper woman has a soft spot for the old
Captain, and there may be a simple trade off.
The boy for the Captain, complete with the blueprint. Everyone’s happy, I get what I want...’ The old man smiled at Clark. ‘You get what you want, now set the ball in
motion.’
Clark closed the door behind him as he
left the office. He would finally have
the closure he needed, the truth behind his sister’s death. The Major had promised to release the details
to him, only he could, when he knew that Clark was ready to hear the
truth. Finally he could close his eyes
and sleep and not see a repeat of her death over and over in his head, her
scream echoing through his mind and her body slip further and further away from
his grasp.
As Clark stepped out into the cool
afternoon on the way to his car, he knew his objective and checking the rounds
in his automatic handgun, he would achieve his objective at any cost. He wouldn’t fail the Major again. He snapped the first bullet into the chamber
and slipped the safety on. The first
bullet was for Gwen Cooper.
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