Gwen lay on the sofa, eyes
closed. Her half mug of cold coffee had formed a milky ring on the surface. A
documentary about wild cats and bears in captivity played on the television in
the background. On the dining room table behind her, sat her laptop, the screen
still displaying images of werewolves, myths and legends, and hand scribbled
drawings, some of which lay screwed up on the floor and others scored through,
as the angle of the hand that didn’t convey what Gwen was aiming for lay beside
the laptop.
Rhys closed the front door quietly behind
him. It was late. Anwen would be in bed, but a light sleeper, it wouldn’t take
much to waken her, and another couple of hours to encourage her back upstairs
for bed, school in the morning!
He dropped the snib and slid the bolts home
and switched off the outside lights. He knew Gwen would be home researching,
and the text for pick up Chinese on the way back was encouragement enough,
especially given the footie was on, and he knew there was at least two bottles
of lager still in the fridge.
He carried the white carrier bag loaded with
foil trays and a paper bag concealed in another plastic bag, containing prawn
crackers into the dining room. Gwen had dropped the lights to ambient, candles
burned in the fireplace, and the telly was down low. He smiled.
He glanced over at the laptop to his left as
he made his way towards the kitchen, just to the right of the fireplace.
‘You’re researching werewolves now? Let me
know when we’re expecting vampires, I’ll dig out the garlic.’ He chuckled.
Rhys spied Gwen asleep on the sofa and
grinned. He wafted the warm bag of tantalising flavours a foot or so from her
face. Gwen stirred.
‘Mmm.’ She smiled, eyes still closed.
‘Chicken?’ Rhys nodded, a broad grin on his face.
‘Yep.’
‘Chow mein? Extra veg, sauce and….’ She
tried to guess the other flavours. Rhys scrunched the plastic surrounding the
paper bag. ‘Prawn crackers?’
‘Yep, and not forgetting a large special
fried rice.’ He chuckled, reaching down to meet her lips, rubbing his bristled
chin against her nose. She squealed, curling up her toes and kissed him back.
‘Come and get it while it’s hot.’ Rhys
added, before heading to the kitchen to dish up.
Gwen sat up and rubbed her tired eyes. She dipped
the volume on the telly further, stretched and returned to the laptop and
pondered on the photographs just peeking out of the files. With Anwen in and
out like a yo-yo earlier, it hadn’t been wise to leave them sitting on show.
The laptop was a different story.
‘Been looking forward to this all day.’ Rhys
called from the kitchen as he grabbed the beers from the fridge. ‘I had to work
a double shift. Baylis didn’t show.’ He continued but Gwen didn’t hear him; too
wrapped up in a shocking discovery.
In the folder marked Weevil, Gwen shook the
photos and lay them out in front of the laptop. The blood thirsty sketch of the
red eyed werewolf continued to scowl at her from the screen. A detailed image
of a Weevil in a folder stared back at her.
‘What am I missing?’ Gwen pulled the file of
the current murder cases. Bodies with deep grooves of flesh torn from torsos.
‘What am I not seeing?’
In previous Weevil attacks in the city; the
fight club. The Ann Summers Store, the marks on the wall in chocolate body
putty, Gwen isolated the problem.
‘Not enough fingers.’
The documentary had
flicked to cartoon images of crazed animals and in particular, a werewolf,
slashing a victim. It caught Gwen’s eye, the vivid images of red and yellow and
flash photography. She looked up, then back at the Weevil photos. Her eyes
widened and she blanched.
‘Ohhhh. It’s not a weevil.’
‘What is it, love?’ Rhys asked, his hands
holding two piled plates of take away and tucked under one arm, two unopened
bottles of beer. ‘You’ve gone pale. Don’t tell me you’re not hungry, after I’ve
binned the containers?’
Gwen looked from Rhys to the food, to the
television, no longer showing ravenous crazed monsters, but the end credits of
the programme. She smiled. It could wait. She looked back at Rhys and forced
all the worry to the back of her mind.
‘This looks lush, and beer. Oh Rhys, you
know the way to a woman’s heart.’
‘Promise me, Rhys?’ Gwen asked, after they’d
demolished much of their meal in relative silence, bar the footie breaking the
monotony.
‘Sure love. What am I promising?’ He asked,
scooping up some rice on a cracker and pushing it into his mouth. Someone on
the telly scored a goal. Rhys cheered. He looked over at Gwen and frowned.
‘You’ve got a bit of bean sprout on your…’
he pointed to his own cheek. Gwen brushed a hand across her face.
‘Gone?’
‘Gone.’ Rhys nodded. Gwen set her plate down
on the coffee table between them.
‘This case I’m working on,’ She began. Rhys
was suddenly absorbed in the footie again.
‘Rhys Williams, are you listening to me?’
She snapped.
‘Were you listening earlier, when I was
talking to you?’ He retorted, eyes still on the game.
‘This is important.’
‘So was mine.’ Silence. Rhys paused and
dimmed the volume. He set his plate beside Gwen’s. ‘Look Gwen. I know your job
requires a lot out of you, and I know your mind can be busy with everything
other than me, and that’s fine, but I needed to tell you something earlier, and
you didn’t listen. Again.’
‘OK. So…’
‘So, Baylis, my mate, from work. I’ve known
him for a little over two years. He didn’t come in today. He was a great bloke.’
Gwen detected a note of sadness in his
voice.
‘What happened?’ She asked, her voice
softer. Concerned. Her eyes solely on Rhys. Her world. Her love.
‘He didn’t have any family. The depot was
his home. Marlene, on reception was as close as family as he had.’ He drew
himself up, playing it out for all the sympathy. ‘The Police called, said that
Baylis had been attacked, and was found 25 yards from his truck. They didn’t go
into a lot of detail, but they did let slip that it was an animal. They said it
was very brutal.’
‘Where was he when he was attacked?’
‘It was a truck stop, on the motorway,
heading South.’
‘What was his surname?’
‘Hardacre, Baylis Hardacre. Why?’
‘Because I think it might be related to the
case I’m working on.’ She reached out for his hand, wrapping her own around
his. ‘Promise me Rhys. Promise me. Don’t be a hero. Just be safe, yeah. We’ve
had reports of wild animals attacking people, but we have no idea why, just
yet.’
‘What kind of animals?’ Rhys asked,
concerned.
‘I dunno. Weevils probably.’
‘Not werewolves?’
‘No. It was a theory but…’ She didn’t want
to worry him. Saying Weevils would at least allay some of his fears. ‘Just don’t go antagonising anything with
sharp teeth and claws.’
‘Righto. You have nothing to worry about.’
Rhys picked up the remote and upped the volume, sitting back in his armchair,
beer in hand, he cheered on his team.
Gwen sat back and inwardly worried for him.
It was a little after
midnight before Gwen had collated all the data, the locations up and down the
country. The pit stops, the food chains, from the North down to London and now
in Cardiff. It sent a cold chill through her body and she shivered. Snatching
up her phone lying on the table beside her empty bottle of beer, she called
Marley, it went to voice mail. She swore and phoned Mitchell. Again – voice
mail. She left a message.
‘Mitch, it’s Gwen, call me when you get this
message, I need to know that you’re OK.’
Three
days earlier…
‘Locked onto the co-ordinates. Typically,
remote location. Come on, Jack.’ Lexy drummed her fingers on the steering wheel
of her long wheel based Landrover. It wasn’t a particularly new model, but the
surgery had received an influx of patients and rumours were rife, so a more
reliable mode of transport, equipped with medical supplies and a stretcher,
were required, as there were werewolves in London!
A bolt of light broke through the clouds
onto Capricon Hill, a mound of earth on an English Heritage site. The property
was part of Lexington Barlow’s estate. A property that had fallen into
disrepair some twenty odd years ago, and with a convenient Torchwood lie of
Knights Templar shenanigans and other historical battles, backed up with data,
researched from the Torchwood archives, Lexy gained government funds to keep
the property in her name, so long as parts of the house were opened to the
public once in a while.
Heavily pregnant, Lexy flicked on the
headlights and drove towards the still form, lying face down on the hillock. It
was late. The stars peeked out from behind the scudding clouds on the cool
winter’s night.
Lexy had been prepared for Jack’s return
weeks earlier. Unlike Gwen, her communications with Jack ran deeper. Although
after the 456, and more recently Miracle Day, all communications had been
severed to keep those closest, safe, but she had never given up hope of his
return. Torchwood didn’t end just because the Captain was no longer at the
helm. Her surgery was full of intergalactic space cadets, creatures which had
slipped through the cracks in time and space, not to start an invasion but to
flee from one.
Lexy climbed down from the Landrover and
opened the back door. Two uniformed soldiers in synthetic garb jumped out, both
only 5’ 9” in stature, carrying a stretcher. They hoisted Jack off the ground
and onto the stretcher with the efficiency of having done this a thousand times
in their lifetime. Jack no longer held the matinee looks, but of someone who
had fallen onto every branch of a large deciduous tree before hitting the
ground hard. Lexy winced.
‘We need to move quickly. Careful.’ She
hissed. ‘He might be immortal but I don’t want his recovery hampered by you
leaving his leg behind.’ She nodded towards the limb still lying on the ground,
where the body had once been. ‘What happened to you Jack?’ She asked, more to
herself than the dead man on the stretcher.
In the en suite Master
bedroom at Lexy’s manor, a fully operational makeshift hospital nursed one
patient back to full health. Lexy, assisted by more of the synthetic clad space
cadets worked around the clock, monitoring Jack’s somewhat slow progress. Lexy
was confident he would return to her soon. His face, deathly pale, body scarred
and broken. She frowned at his dismembered leg, currently surviving in warm
water, body temperature, wires feeding into the veins, muscle and tissue to
avoid decomposition. Jack’s body lay in stasis, using alien technology, a gel
like membrane surrounded his naked form, securing the blood loss from the
severed leg. Heart and brain monitors detected tiny pulses of activity but
nothing strong. To an untrained physician in human anatomy, Jack was officially
unresponsive – in other words – brain dead.
Lexy of course knew different. The jump
using this form of teleportation was not without risk. For a healthy male, the
displacement of atoms and reforming on landing was like a really bad case of
travel sickness. If he’d been injured…
She turned towards the doorway and caught
sight of a highly decorated Space Ranger, cap tucked neatly under his arm, a
winning smile, and all the characteristics and charm as the man lying naked in
the jello.
‘Ma’am.’ He smiled, saluting her, casually.
He held along with his cap, a folder, Lexy noted.
‘Teddy.’ She returned the smile.
‘How’s the patient?’ His voice was smooth as
silk.
‘Broken. Slow progress really. Is that the
report from Starmega Division?’
‘Yes.’ Teddy replied, stepping closer to the
stasis chamber, eyeing the patient with interest.
‘Can I see it?’ Lexy held out her hand.
‘Teddy, I need to know the details in order to help him.’
Teddy sighed. ‘What if he never wakes up?’
‘We are all Torchwood here. The fight still
goes on. I need to know what happened to him. In all the years I’ve known Jack,
he’s never returned like this.’
Teddy held out the report.
‘I heard that the rendezvous point had been
compromised. Arakia was decimated by mutant dino type creatures. Jack had made
contact with one of our agents out there. The princess who had been detained on
Earth was taken to Arakia to assume her role as Queen but was executed for her
past crimes. The kingdom was in chaos. The mutant army was more than their own
guards could handle.’
‘Presumably Mitchell and Goodson escaped
capture then. Neither of them have spoken about their ordeal.’
‘Jack jettisoned an escape pod before he was
shot. He was a little sketchy as to what happened to him before they reached
Arakia.’ Teddy replied, stepping away from the stasis chamber.
‘Walk with me.’ They left the medical team
to monitor Jack. Lexy skimmed through the details in the file as she walked
with Teddy along the ornate wood panelled landing, where historic battle scenes
hung in gilt edged frames. Profiles of heroes and heroines in battle dress,
posed for artists, and followed them through the passageway towards a solid
wooden door at the end of the corridor. It held a hand print scanner which
shone a green light over Lexy’s flat palmed hand against the door. With an
orchestrated click and whirr of minute cogs and pin wheels on the other side,
the door popped open, and Lexy waved Teddy in first.
‘After you.’ She said.
Teddy
entered the beating heart of Lexy’s operation. A bank of monitors sat against
one wall of her study, each with the familiar swirling alien tech, synonymous
to Torchwood Three computer systems.
‘Nice.’ He smiled, feeling at home already.
He lay his cap upon a spare space on a desk beside a keyboard, and blue Manila
folders. Hovering by itself without any form of magnetic field, Teddy spied the
Gora. ‘Hey, I’ve not seen one of these in years? Where did you come across it?’
He strode excitedly towards it. Aware of its power, he lightly traced his
fingers of his left hand around its perimeter and smiled like a child with a
new toy, as the raging storm inside sought out the new heat pattern. It built a
mixture of senses within. A rage that fought against the calming influence of
the Space Ranger.
‘These are banned across seven star systems.
How did you…?’
‘A battle cruiser crash landed on this site
just over twenty-five years ago. That hillock where Jack landed was formed
after the ship ploughed up the field. I suppose I should be lucky that it
didn’t land on the house. It would have taken more than a queen’s ransom to fix
that.’ She smiled, easing herself into her computer seat, folder resting on her
apparent bump.
‘There are pieces of the ship still buried
under that hill. It’s how Jack was able to lock onto our signal.’ She winced,
rubbing her side. ‘Ahh, he seems to have woken up again.’
Teddy glanced over, tearing himself away
from the Gora.
‘You should be resting. Let your minions take
up the slack.’
‘It’s not as simple as that. The medical
side of things I know they are capable of. But this,’ she slapped down the
file. ‘I can’t leave someone else in charge of this.’ She paused for a beat.
The Gora was darkening. The storm system within was changing pace.
‘Do you know what Gora stands for?’ Lexy
asked.
‘Yeah,’ Teddy replied. ‘Gladstones Orb of
Raging Affinity.’
‘Do you know what it does?’
‘It monitors weather patterns, but it’s also
got a darkness about it. The druids on Calasant 9 used it to connect with
demons. In the wrong hands, it can conjure dark entities, or at best, tell them
when the darkness is coming. Like an aura. A seer of dark worlds.’
‘It’s a weather system.’ She corrected him.
‘Druids from outer regions, have been using it, but it’s not to conjure up dark
spirits. It’s to know how close they are to becoming a reality.’
Teddy wasn’t convinced. ‘I think I’d know
more of an outer world device.’ Lexy smiled.
‘I’m not trying to show off here. Jack
Harkness through there is a traveller from another world, who through countless
centuries has come to live on Earth and fight the demons that come through the
Rift. I’m sure deep in your psyche, you already know that.’
‘I’m well aware of his Lazarus qualities,
ma’am. I’ve heard the stories of his battles with Daleks, and the travels with
the Oncoming Storm. That still sends shivers down my spine.’
‘About the Daleks?’
‘No. About the Doctor. There are some pasts
we like to keep buried.’ Teddy smiled sardonically.
‘I have no interest in your past, Teddy.
It’s the good that you do now, that I am interested in. We all make mistakes.’
He laughed lightly. ‘I was younger back
then. I looked up to a lot of different people. I was afraid to be myself.
Different times.’
‘We can all be grateful for that then.’ She
sat mesmerised by the storm, crashing and billowing inside its glass orb.
‘There’s a storm coming.’
‘There’s always a storm coming.’
‘I know. But this one, this will change
everything on the planet if we allow the Ciou Sioux tribe to reign. This is not
just a few tribal elders singing around a camp fire, about life struggles and the
invasion of the white men. This would be an invasion of wolf men that on a
global scale would decimate the human race. And with an Arakian prince at his
side, there would be no stopping Caleb in attaining the power to rule over everyone.’
‘He’s just one man.’
‘One influential man, who can control
armies, Teddy. Who can rid the world of the species known as man and make
slaves of any survivors. He tried it once before, but he was without his son,
Porlicanthus, and without his heir he is powerless. Mighty, but powerless.’
Lexy rose to her feet and stretched her legs. Baby was awake.
‘So, what can we do?’ Teddy leaned against
the desk, his eyes drawn to the raging storm inside the globe again. It was
darkening still, and fresh animal shapes were beginning to form. Lexy stood
before it, her heart racing.
‘Our job. We protect Mitchell. And we keep
him as far away from Caleb as we can. The alignment of the seven planets is
less than a week away.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Caleb wants his heir, and an Arakian wolf
man is the most powerful of rulers in the whole Universe, and god help us if
that happens.’ She looked at Teddy. ‘Mitchell didn’t have the greatest start in
life. He has a rage inside of him, built from mistrust of people. Wolf did his best,
but he never revealed himself to the boy, his nephew, and because of that,
perhaps it was wrong. Perhaps if Mitchell had known his true identity….’
‘You can’t blame yourself, Lex.’ Teddy was
beside her, a compassionate hand upon her shoulder. ‘Come and sit down.’ He led
her back to her seat and turned a waste bin on its head, at her feet.
‘Whether Wolf had revealed himself or not,
if we have to protect the Prince, then that’s what we have to do. Where is he
now?’
‘Safe. He’s with his old guardian from the
Children’s home. Greer will look after him.’
‘Isn’t Greer, a…’
‘Wolfman? Yes. He’s one of Caleb’s old
tribal men, but he like Porlicanthus, stepped away from the group. They are
lone wolfs. They don’t mix with the pack. They both disliked Caleb’s teachings.
It was old and archaic and didn’t move with the times, didn’t wish to blend in
with the world. I mean, we all like a piece of tradition – but slayings and the
taking of innocent children for sacrifice. These aren’t the Dark Ages.’
‘But they could be again?’
‘Yes, and that’s what we can’t allow to
happen.’ Her smile returned. ‘I’m sorry Teddy. Maybe one day, you’ll come over
and we’ll have that date you’ve been talking of.’
‘Yeah, I’d like that.’ He laughed. A smile
that warmed her heart, but didn’t completely take away the fear she felt.
Lexy awoke in the early
hours of the morning to screaming coming from the stasis room. She struggled
out of bed. It was becoming harder to move these days with the grace of an
athlete. It took effort to roll onto her side, to move her body carrying the
sleeping form currently sleeping on her bladder.
The alarm bells rang out across the landing
as she contemplated releasing the pressure first. She groaned and hurried as
best she could, supporting her bump as she ran.
The room was in chaos. Monitors lit up the
room like a decorated Christmas tree. Staff were milling at machines and around
the chamber. Many hands were trying to calm an angry Captain who had gasped
back into life and been surrounded by many duplicate faces.
‘Get the hell off me.’ He growled, batting
as many hands from his body as he could. That was the other thing – when he’d
teleported he was fully clothed.
Lexy called her team away and spoke softly
and calmly to the raging Captain.
‘Jack. Jack!’
‘Who the hell?’ He turned towards her.
‘Focus on my voice.’ She shone a bright
light instrument at his eyes. ‘You have some eye damage but that will heal,
especially if your leg is anything to go by.’
Fronds of muscle and sinew, and calcium
stretched out towards the unattached leg. Lexy watched as the two ends met,
intertwining like willow branches, weaving into shape, strengthening the limb.
It was fascinating to her, but excruciating for Jack, who cried out and gasped
at the pain.
‘Up his meds.’ She instructed one of the
cadets. Jack was about to protest. ‘Don’t argue Captain. You’re on my territory
now. Oh, and,’ she bent over, close enough to kiss his cheek and whispered in
his ear. ‘Welcome home.’
Over the coming days, Jack
recovered fully. Although he still never opened up to Lexy about Arakia and how
he came to lose his leg, she was at least satisfied that he had recovered well
enough to return to work. Over dinner that night, he read over the details of
files collated since Mitchell had returned, and the killings that had stumped
the Police nationwide.
‘So, are we still facing attacks?’ He asked,
shovelling in the last mouthful of rump steak.
‘It would seem so. The Police don’t want to
admit what they think it is, because let’s face it, if you were to go on air
and tell the public it was werewolves…’
Jack laughed. ‘Yeah.’
‘We’ve managed to quell the news channel
reports of violent attacks as nothing more than random big cat sightings.
Naturally the Beast of Bodmin Moor is a talking point again and several
children have reported seeing big cats in Scottish towns and villages after
dark. It seems to be keeping the public quiet for now.’ Lexy lifted her glass
of water to her lips.
‘You can’t keep them quiet forever. At some
point, someone is going to post a video of a werewolf and it’s not going to be
so easy to hide that.’
‘We’ve a team of qualified people able to
block the slightest attempt of a video upload of such a thing.’
‘You’re missing my point. With live
streaming being a big issue now, we can’t stop everything. We can try, but
someone is going to show it to their friends, upload it to a bunch of other
people. Like I said, we can only hold back the tide for so long.’ Jack lowered
his cutlery and pushed his plate aside.
‘That was wonderful. Thank you. Been a long
time since I’ve tasted meat as good as that.’ He grinned boyishly at her,
showing off a rack of pearly whites.
Lexy shook her head. ‘I’m never sure if
you’re genuinely being nice or if there’s not a hidden innuendo there.’
Jack laughed and got to his feet. He noticed
Lexy studying him.
‘What?’
Lexy shook her head. ‘I’m just blown away by
how well you heal. Your leg for instance, the reconstruction of bone and body
tissue. After all this time, Jack. You’re an enigma.’
He threw his head back and laughed. ‘I’ve
been called so many things in my time, but I’ll take that. I think I’ll go and
stretch my legs. Work off this lovely meal.’ He lifted his jacket that lay
draped over the back of the leather sofa and slipped it on.
‘Good idea.’ She dabbed her mouth with a
napkin and drained her glass. ‘Why don’t I accompany you on your walk. You can
fill me in on your adventures and I can tell you all about my day.’
Jack’s smile faded.
‘Do you not trust me to come back?’
‘No.’
The floodlit grounds made
it easy to walk around the perimeter of the large old stately building and
grounds. Guards in the same synthetic garb paraded the grounds and acted as
sentry guards. Lexy nodded to some who saluted her in passing. Jack scrutinised
the soldiers and frowned.
‘If I’m not mistaken, you’ve got yourself a
clone race working for you.’
‘They’re given free bed and board and paid
through Torchwood. They have all the legal documentation and working visas set
up by Space Ranger Teddy Bulgarow.’
‘They’re not human though.’
‘They were bred for war. Conceived onboard
ships heading into battle. These are the surplus stock. The remnants of a
forgotten war. I found a niche for them.’
‘You sound like your father.’ Jack snorted.
‘He wasn’t a bad man.’
‘You’ve changed your tune.’
‘Bad things happened to him. Alien bad
things.’ She shrugged. ‘Just one of those things.’
‘So you’re the patron saint for all alien
waifs and strays?’
Lexy laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose I am. I mean,
isn’t that what we’re about? Helping our fellow man.’ She stopped and gazed up
at Jack. ‘When I joined Torchwood, I believed I was giving something back. Old
Torchwood would have put a bullet in their heads. I could see something
different in them.’
‘Danger.’ Jack replied.
‘No. Hope.’ Lexy made a beeline for the
garden bench. Baby was kicking again.
‘You should be taking it easy, not running
after people like me.’
‘It’s why I can’t be taking things easy
Jack. We’ve been waiting for you for a good few months now. No word back. It’s
thanks to these soldiers and Teddy that we found you at all. What happened to
you out there? How did you manage to lose a leg?’
‘I’d rather not say. It’s not important. All
I can say is that, it wasn’t just the Princess who faced execution that day. Skelagh
also faced it. He used to be part of the crew onboard her battle cruiser. He
was looking to stir up the pirates and create a mutiny in the ranks. Hiding
away on Earth, disguising his identity. Seeing the Princess locked away, I
guess it was only a matter of time before he knew he’d have to return to
Arakia, and this time bask in the glory of her head on a plate.’
‘So what happened?’
‘The kingdom had changed. No longer a pirate
princess in charge, democracy had decreed that there should be no more Royal
family dictating to the masses, and so they had them all killed.’
‘All of Mitchell’s family, in a way.’
‘We’re the only family that kid needs. His
mother would have been a bad influence on him.’
‘If you think about it, Porlicanthus wasn’t
any better. One look at the moon and it was all over.’
‘She told me something while we were on board
the ship.’ Jack sat beside Lexy and leaned forward in the seat, resting his
elbows on his knees. ‘She told me I was his father.’
‘She’d have said anything if it meant
getting free.’
‘True, but…’
‘You believe her?’ Lexy massaged her side.
Jack sat back and sighed. ‘I don’t know what
to believe.’
‘I suppose we’ll find out soon.’
Jack nodded. ‘Yeah. And god help us all.’
They made their way back
to the house.
‘I suppose you should know,’ Lexy realised,
bracing herself. ‘Mitchell is with Greer.’ Jack’s mild manner darkened.
‘Where?’
‘In remote farmland on the outskirts of
Cardiff I believe. He’s safe, Jack.’
‘Greer’s an old man. No match for Mitchell.
He must be pushing seventy if he’s a day.’ He paused. ‘Why is he not at the
safe house?’
‘It was compromised.’
Jack spun around to face her. It was hard
not to notice the flash of rage simmering under the surface.
‘Tell me.’
‘While you’ve been away, and quite possibly
before you went away, Caleb sent two scouts to find Mitchell and his location.
We’re not entirely sure when they set off but following the line of blood from
Scotland to London, I would imagine it wouldn’t have taken them long to find
the boy or you. It’s not as if you really kept him that hidden. Surely the
Torchwood base would have been enough. 17 floors and operated mostly by lifts,
even Caleb is not that intelligent to know how to operate a modern day
machine.’
‘You’ll be surprised just how well they
adapt. Porlicanthus wasn’t ill equipped when he and I travelled out of town, if
you know what I mean.’
‘It was Greer that alerted us to the breach
in security at the safe house. We’re still waiting on information on who they
sent.’
‘Why only two? Why wouldn’t he send more?’
‘I don’t know.’ They walked towards the
welcoming lights at the front door, and a welcoming committee of young soldiers
milling at the door, like expectant children awaiting the moment to impart a
great secret. A soldier with an identical face to the others stepped forward.
He looked a little younger than the rest. He was full of importance. A quick
salute. A thrust of the paperwork. And a patient wait of further instructions.
The entire household held their breath.
‘What is it?’ Jack looked over Lexy’s
shoulder at the printed information in her hand.
‘It would seem that Caleb sent Swiftbone and
Kaliyer to bring Mitchell back to the fold.
‘I don’t recognise the name.’
‘Greer does. Kaliyer is his brother.
Swiftbone is a bloodthirsty young pup which would explain the slayings down
from the North. He’s not very good at concealing his kills.’
Jack headed for the door. ‘I need to head
back to Cardiff.’
‘Not without me, you’re not.’
‘No offence Lexy, but you’re not in any fit
state to travel. How long till you give birth?’
‘A fortnight at the latest.’
‘Exactly. I can’t risk you going into labour
while we’re heading out into battle.’
‘Who
said anything about heading into battle? I’m coming Jack. I’m the one with the
vehicle. Plus, you can’t telejump again for another 48 hours. That jump alone
killed you on re-entry. Let’s not over do things.’ She looked to one of the
soldiers. ‘I’ll need my kit and my luggage case, it’s under the bed in my
room.’ She looked back at Jack, lingering at the door.
‘We’ll need the right kinds of weapons to
deal with the scouts. So we’ll need to collect kit from the armoury, which is
this way.’
‘We’re wasting time.’ Jack growled,
impatiently.
‘I would rather leave when I have everything
I need, rather than in like Flynn and hope for the best. What if your base has
been compromised?’
‘I would have heard by now.’
‘Help me gather my equipment Jack, then we
can go.’
‘Fine,’ Jack sighed impatiently.
‘Mitchell is my responsibility as much as
he’s yours.’
‘You could get hurt.’
‘And you could lose another limb. I’m coming
and that’s final.’
‘Fine,’ Jack restated following Lexy to the
armoury. ‘But I’m driving.’
End of Chapter Two.
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