VS3:07 -- "The Hunt", Part One
"A killer on the loose, a strange alien encounter, and plans gone awry. For Team Torchwood and Rhys Williams, it's just another night in Cardiff."
The Hunt
by: beesandbrews, such_heights
"Okay, boys, the reading's coming from somewhere to your left," Gwen said into her headset as she peered at the energy patterns on the computer screen.
"Thanks, Gwen, that's very specific, very helpful." Ianto sounded exasperated over the channel.
"Sorry, I'm doing my best." She reached for her mug of coffee, cupping it between her hands. "What's the weather like out there?"
"Bloody awful," JJ grumbled. "This is..." He paused, and Gwen could hear a squelching sound in the background. "This is disgusting."
"Okay, enough grousing," Jack cut in. "Gwen, are you getting any indicators about how big this thing is?"
"Hang on." Gwen tapped a few quick commands. "It looks more like a collection of small things. Maybe whatever it is broke up when it landed?"
"Or maybe it brought company," Ianto muttered.
Gwen rolled her eyes. It was pointless in the empty Hub, but it made her feel better. "Just hurry up and find whatever it is, would you? Some of us have homes to go to."
"It's all right for you," said JJ. "At least you're dry."
Jack cut in over his subordinates. "The sooner we're done, the sooner we can all get on with our lives."
There was silence on the comms at that, and Gwen leaned back in her chair, checking the clock on her computer. With any luck she'd actually finish up with work in time, collect her car from the garage and meet up with Rhys. Maybe she'd take him out to a nice meal first before delivering her news. She glanced at the notepad beside her mouse where she'd scribbled down numerous different opening lines and a variety of strategies for delivering them. She was reasonably sure that telling your partner you were pregnant was not supposed to be so complicated under ordinary circumstances. But then again, her circumstances were far from ordinary.
She could hear chatter over the line: Jack giving instructions; JJ responding. But it wasn't directed at her, so she settled back in her seat and took a sip of coffee. Gwen regarded the mug and sighed. “I'm going to miss this.” She had already cut back, but cutting coffee out of her life entirely was proving more difficult than she imagined. Gwen took another sip, savouring it as she picked up the notepad and jotted down a few more ideas.
There was a triumphant shout from Ianto, loud enough over the comm to get her attention. "Sorry," Gwen said, dropping the pad and putting a hand to her ear. "Repeat that."
"What is that?" JJ asked. He sounded curious, but also somewhat put off.
"Ianto, what have you got there?" asked Gwen.
"It's-" Ianto grunted as though he were pulling at something. The grunt was rapidly followed by a loud, wet, slurping sound. "Hang on, let me run a scan."
"It looks like a fishmonger's nightmare," JJ said for Gwen's benefit. "It's got... Jack, those are tentacles?"
Jack laughed. "Don't sound so surprised."
"Looks harmless," said Ianto.
"Looks dead," replied Jack. "Right, let's clean up here and head back to base. See you soon, Gwen!"
"See you." Gwen severed the connection.
She looked back at her notepad, trying on expressions as she contemplated the opening lines she'd scratched on the page. Which mood to go for? Breezy, serious, happy, or scared out of her mind? She was all of those things.
Gwen knew what Rhys's reaction would be. She could already see the beaming smile on his face. He would be thrilled and, because he was, she would be, too; no matter if doubt niggled at her. She looked around the Hub and sighed. Not exactly the most inviting environment for a child. There were disused rooms and offices. She wondered if Jack could be persuaded to set one up as a nursery. Gwen added a note to her list.
The proximity alarm sounded forty-five minutes later. Gwen looked up and regarded her colleagues with amused sympathy.
"Ugh," said JJ with feeling, shaking himself off in the entrance. He looked down at his sodden and muddy clothes and groaned. "I'll never get this gunk out of my shirt."
"It's just a little mud. Well, mud and manure. I told you to be careful climbing over that fence," Jack said, clapping JJ on the shoulder.
Ianto looked as if he was about to say something, then thought better of it, opening his mouth, and then shaking his head with his lips pressed firmly together. Gwen giggled as she imagined the nature of his comment, but pulled herself back under control. "What have you got there?" she asked, changing the subject.
Ianto hefted up a clear plastic sack. Inside there was a large brick-red mass, with many appendages, and some sort of secretion slowly filling the bag. "God only knows."
"And we can wait until tomorrow to find out," Jack added. "Go home, Gwen."
"Brilliant," she replied whilst buttoning up her jacket. A fresh wave of nerves rolled over her. "Wish me luck!"
"What for?" JJ asked.
"You're about to tell Rhys the big news, aren't you?" Ianto guessed.
Gwen nodded.
"Then what's to be worried about?" Jack asked, walking over to squeeze her hand. "He's about to be the happiest man in Wales."
"Yeah, I know," Gwen said quietly, swallowing her misgivings. She smiled at Jack. "Well, I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow. Have a good night, boys!"
As she made her way out of the Hub she sent a quick message to Rhys. Just on my way home now, got something to talk to you about. See you soon. x
The Plass was cold and windy when she reached ground level. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, bowed her head and trudged off towards Riverside. Evening shoppers were making their way toward bus stops and car parks, and everything was reassuringly ordinary. As she walked, it seemed easier to believe that everything was going to be all right, that Rhys's happiness would be enough for them both.
She gradually drew away from the shops and noise, and headed toward the quieter, but no less industrious area, where Rhys's mate Phil kept his small garage. As she reached the corner, a humming noise caught her attention. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but it grew louder and louder. Gwen whirled around, looking for the source, but aside from a few cars driving away from her, there was no one in sight. Her hand went to her bag, ready to draw her pistol.
The noise grew focused. Sharp. It centred directly above her head. She stared upwards and saw a pinprick of light growing rapidly larger, brighter, until the glow overtook her sight, her thoughts, her senses. Everything.
"All right?" Jack asked, walking over to Ianto and resting a hand on his shoulder.
"I'd say the chances of this thing releasing some kind of toxin into the Hub while we're gone are minimal," Ianto replied as he sealed the tank where he'd stored the alien. "Sure you don't know what it is?"
Jack peered through the glass, tracing out the shape of the creature, the mottled red colour of its skin. "No idea. Right now, it's just another victim of the Rift," he said, his voice tinged with melancholy. "Maybe tomorrow we can put a name to it."
Ianto pressed his fingers gently against Jack's hand then stepped away. "Well, I'm off to clean up."
"You're still on for tonight, right?" Ianto gave him a quizzical look and Jack realised he must have sounded as nervous as he suddenly felt. "I mean, after our day out in the field, we could order in, take it easy."
Ianto looked at him with tolerant affection. "Yes, Jack, I'm still on for tonight, but after our trip to the countryside I'd like a shower and a change of clothes." He sniffed delicately at his sleeve where some of the alien secretion clung and grimaced. "And I'd prefer to use something else besides eau du slime as cologne."
"You're so provincial sometimes." Jack grinned at Ianto, the sudden bout of nerves gone as quickly as it had risen.
"I promise my dull, twenty-first century ways won't take long," Ianto replied, refusing to take Jack's bait.
"We could clean up together," Jack offered. "Start the night off with some soapy fun."
"Date first," Ianto said patiently. "Soapy fun later." Ianto's tone was pedantic, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he retreated toward the employee showers.
JJ leaned over the railings. "Anything else you need, Jack?"
"No, you're a free man," he replied. "Just go and close up the tourist office, would you?"
JJ nodded. "Will do."
"Oh and, JJ?" Jack called. "Good job this evening."
JJ turned back and grinned. "Thanks! It was... well, fun might be too strong a word."
Jack answered JJ's grin with one of his own. "Oh, you love it, really."
"If you say so," JJ muttered good-naturedly, then turned and headed for ground level.
Jack shrugged off his damp coat and headed up to his office. He glanced at his desk as he hung the coat on its hook and groaned at the prospect of the last few tedious tasks of the day that were awaiting him. He looked down at his mud-spattered clothes and decided that work could wait.
Military training served him well. Jack was back at his desk, showered, styled, and dressed for a night on the town in less than twenty minutes. He scanned through his emails, sorting them into three categories: to Gwen if they needed some kind of human response, to JJ if they were unimportant but interesting, and to Ianto if there was information that needed filing away. It was a swift delegation process, and it left him with half a dozen tedious missives from the Home Office that no doubt required his immediate attention. He flagged them to deal with in the morning. His eyes lit up as he saw a message from Martha. He read that one with much more eagerness, grinning at the gossip-filled note.
He sent off a quick reply, promising more detail tomorrow, but in the meantime there was a cute young thing downstairs waiting to be taken out, and who was Jack to delay him?
Jack knew perfectly well Martha would forward that to Ianto, probably within the hour, and that was half the fun.
He signed off, grabbed his coat, flicked a bit of mud off the lapel, and started to shrug into it as he exited his office. He was pleased to see Ianto, standing near his work station, looking both impatient and gorgeous. Jack was half-tempted to cancel dinner and spend the evening unwrapping Ianto instead, peeling him out of that caramel-coloured jumper and those strikingly well-tailored black trousers.
Before he could say something suitably risqué, JJ called his name over the loudspeaker.
"What?" Jack asked shortly, hoping against hope it'd be nothing that would keep him at work.
"There's this bloke in the tourist office, says he wants to see you, says he's-"
"Oi," came a strident Welsh voice that Jack knew only too well. "You tell him who I am and take me down into your secret lair-thing right now."
"JJ, put me on with Rhys," Jack said, sighing and raising his eyebrows at Ianto, who frowned.
"Jack, have you heard from Gwen?" Rhys asked, once the comm had been passed over.
"No," Jack said slowly, "she left for home about an hour ago."
"Well, she's not at home. She called me, said she was on her way, and now I can't get through to her."
"She probably just got sidetracked. I'm sure she's fine. But," Jack added, cutting through the beginnings of an indignant rant from Rhys, "before you start yelling at me, I'm going to tell JJ to bring you down here, and we'll work out where she is. Should only take a couple of minutes."
Once he heard the telltale sound of the door swinging open above them, he turned to Ianto. "Okay, start checking the camera network. See if you can track down Gwen. I'll try her mobile."
"Think there's a problem?"
"I think," Jack said as he hit the speed dial on his telephone, "Rhys gets a little excitable sometimes. I also think that Gwen can look after herself. But there's no harm in putting his mind at rest and this should win me some good-boss points from Gwen." He glanced down at the phone in his hand and frowned. "Caller unavailable." He punched the speed dial again.
"Right," said Ianto as the mainframe fed data to the monitor in front of him. "Gwen last used her phone up on the Plass, at 18:49. CCTV shows her heading toward home."
Jack came over to watch as Ianto rapidly flicked through images that showed nothing out of the ordinary. Ianto glanced at him, looking puzzled, and Jack folded his arms.
"Wait, that's not her usual route," Jack said as Gwen crossed left instead of right.
Ianto switched cameras. "Maybe she had an errand to run." Images continued to flicker past. Then, without warning, Gwen vanished.
"What?" Jack said sharply. "Scroll back."
Ianto was already on it. "Looks like there's a blind spot here," he said.
In one frame, Gwen was standing on a street corner, waiting to cross a road. In the next, some way down the pavement after the crossing, she was gone without a trace.
The doors rolled back, and Rhys strode into the Hub, worry masked by anger. "Well? You found her with all your whiz-bang technology yet?"
"Working on it," Jack told him coolly.
"Shit." Rhys passed a hand roughly over his face.
"She's probably fine," Ianto added absently as he switched to a different camera view.
"Probably?" Rhys repeated. "Christ."
Gwen stirred. She had an immediate sense of being somewhere unknown, but not a lot else as she groggily lifted her head. There was an utter absence of light. No matter how she squinted and strained, Gwen couldn't see so much as the hand she held in front of her face. It was unnerving. The floor beneath her was cold and soothing against her aching head, but she pushed off and up, scrambling to her knees and feeling for any sort of purchase to help her climb to her feet. Her hand brushed against her bag and she clutched it to her chest, fumbling for the zip with clumsy fingers.
"Hello?" she called out warily. "Anyone there?" There was nothing but silence in reply. "What the hell?" she muttered.
Gwen took a deep breath, trying to clear her still-spinning head, and choked on the stale, metallic-smelling air. At last, she worked the zipper open and dipped inside her handbag. Her fingers closed on a pencil-sized torch. Flipping it on, she played the beam around the walls and floor.
Gwen was, indeed, alone.
"So where is she, then?" Rhys tapped the glass of the monitor and looked at Jack. "All these cameras, and you're telling me she can just vanish," he snapped his fingers, "like that?"
"It's not that simple." Jack watched the images replay again. "Ianto, capture those frames and run a comprehensive analysis. Then check the rest of the cameras in the area."
Ianto's long fingers were already playing over the keys and a moment later, the result of his work displayed on the monitor. "I've run a diagnostic on the camera. Other than that glitch it appears to be functioning normally." He looked over his shoulder at JJ. "Use that workstation. See if you can't pick up Gwen's trail."
JJ's worried features brightened at the opportunity, but then his brow furrowed. "What if she got cold feet and ducked-"
Rhys seized on JJ's comment. "Cold feet? What would Gwen need to get cold feet about?" He rounded on Jack, the root of so many of his domestic problems. "Well?"
"Socks," Ianto supplied. "JJ meant, maybe she stopped at the corner shop for some thick socks. The environmental systems have been a bit temperamental lately." He improvised a theatrical shiver. "Brr, cold."
"Right," Jack said, elaborating as he engaged in an eyebrow pantomime with Ianto. "And since Gwen has been on the comms rota when we go on field missions, she's been bearing the brunt of it."
Rhys gave the pair of them a dark look, considering the plausibility of the excuse. "It feels all right in here to me."
"It's very erratic," Ianto said with a hopeless shrug. "Freezing one minute, baking the next. I've tried to find the fault, but there are only so many hours in the day."
Rhys regarded Ianto for a long moment, and then his face softened. "If it's as bad as you say, I know a bloke that does good work at a fair rate. I don't want Gwen coming down with something if she's going to be stuck in this dank hole of yours."
Jack opened his mouth to protest the slight to his home, but Ianto cut him smoothly off. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that."
Rhys turned his attention back to JJ. "Well, you find anything?"
JJ, distracted by the verbal interplay, started. "Sorry, system needed a minute to get warmed up," he temporised. He stared at the keyboard for a second, then his fingers began to move. The next CCTV camera in line showed the same street, just a little further down the road. People and cars passed by, but there was no sign of Gwen. He scanned the images from each camera in sequence for a mile. "Nothing."
He hesitated briefly, then announced, "Switching to the camera going north." The view transitioned, but the result was the same. More pedestrian traffic, a mugging foiled when a local constable walked out of a corner grocery straight into the action, but no Gwen.
JJ switched cameras again. Rhys danced on the balls of his feet, growing increasingly frustrated as JJ continued to scan images, widening his search parameters further and further until Jack put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.
"Despite what you see on television, CCTV isn't the be all and end all it's supposed to be. A lot of stuff gets under the radar." He blew out a breath. "Ianto, anything?"
On screen, an hourglass flipped over and over again. "Still running analysis."
"What's that mean?" Rhys demanded. "What are you looking for?"
Jack gave Rhys a reassuring smile. He clapped one hand on the big man's shoulder and led him away from the workstations. "This could take a minute. Let's go get a coffee-"
Rhys shrugged out from under Jack's palm. "I don't want a bloody coffee, Jack. I want to know what happened to my wife!"
Jack took a calming breath, and nodded. "I know. And we're working on it. But we can't lose our heads. Gwen's a big girl and she's good at taking care of herself. Right?" He projected all the confidence he could in the gaze he fixed on Rhys. "Right?"
Rhys huffed out a frustrated sigh, conceding the point. "Right."
"Analysis complete," Ianto announced. The printer under the work station hummed and sheets dropped into the output tray. Ianto picked them up, glanced at them, and cocked his head towards Jack's office, indicating that he wanted to make his report privately.
"Just give us a second, okay?" Jack guided Rhys, shoulders slumped with concern, toward the sofa. The big man sat and put his head into his hands. Jack squeezed his shoulder, then followed Ianto up to his office.
"Tell me," Jack said as soon as he closed the door.
Ianto fed a plastic sheet into Jack's printer and hit the start button. It whirred to life and Ianto waited for it to complete its job before he cleared a space on the desk and set the pages he carried with him down. "Energy readings. An electromagnetic spike that interrupted the camera operation for three-tenths of a second. But that's not the disturbing part." He pointed to the second page. Cardiff lay spread out before them. "CCTV coverage map." He retrieved the page from the printer and laid it over the map. "Rift spikes. There was a small cluster of them right around the time Gwen disappeared. Jack..." He paused and placed his fingers over Jack's. "One of the spikes was negative."
"Oh, no." Jack closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. No. No. It's a coincidence. You are not telling me Gwen was swept up by the Rift."
Ianto squeezed Jack's fingers, offering a small comfort. "No, I'm not. It's merely suggestive, not definitive. But it is a possibility."
Jack's phone rang. He yanked it from his pocket and glanced at the display, his face falling at the unfamiliar number. "Jack Harkness." He listened for a few seconds. "No, Andy. Well, she has been known to shut it off occasionally." He mouthed 'Gwen's pet copper' at Ianto. "That's very helpful of you. You've got a what? Where? Right. No. We'll be there." Jack dropped the phone on the desk and pressed his fingers against his temple. "As if the night couldn't get any better." He smiled apologetically at Ianto. "The locals have a-" Jack air-quoted "-spooky do. I need you to take JJ and see what they're on about."
"What sort of a spooky do?" Ianto asked, guardedly. If they were being called out because some teenager decided she was going to paint mystic symbols on her bedroom wall and then top herself again, he would see that Gwen had words with her friends on the force as soon as they found her.
Jack tore the address off his notepad. He looked at it, looked down at the map with its cluster of Rift spike markers, and frowned. "He wasn't real specific. Just said it was messy and up our street. Going by this map, I'd say he might be right." He showed Ianto the address and then pointed at a location. "Take the SUV. Check it out."
"What are you going to do in the meantime?" Ianto looked down at the lower level. JJ was working on something, head down, shooting the occasional nervous glance in Rhys's direction. Rhys was pacing, too agitated with worry to stay still for long.
"Jack?" JJ's voice sounded tinny coming over the telephone intercom. "The police band is going mad. Report of multiple attacks by an unidentified assailant. There are six victims en route to hospital."
Jack growled. "Why tonight? I had such plans." He gave Ianto a harried glance and scooped the receiver up to reply. "Location?"
"Within a two mile radius of Gwen's disappearance."
"Damn it." Jack severed the connection. He took a deep breath. "All right, divide and conquer. Contain the situation, and find Gwen. Ianto, be careful." His gaze was intent as he said, "I don't want anybody getting hurt tonight."
Ianto nodded, the implied message understood. He broke the eye lock and looked out through the window. "We should leave JJ on comms to coordinate."
As if he felt Ianto's gaze, JJ looked up with a curious expression.
"Can't afford the luxury," Jack countered. He was at his desk, stuffing his pockets with rounds for his Webley. "He's done fine in the field so far. Tonight won't be any different."
Ianto turned, hands on his hips. "He's only been on routine recovery missions. Nothing dangerous. I know you believe in trial by fire, Jack, but-"
"Then don't let him get burned," Jack snapped back. "This is work. I'm the captain. You're the loyal batman. Remember? What I say goes."
Ianto looked around the confines of Jack's office, his eyes wide with mock-surprise. "Really, and here's me thinking we were on holiday in Brighton. I don't know how I could have got the two confused."
"There are times sarcasm doesn't become you." Jack dropped one hand to his hip in a parody of Ianto and poked the other toward the younger man's chest. "And this is one of those times." His brow furrowed. "Wait, you want to holiday in Brighton? 'Cause I know this little place. En suite baths with jacuzzi tubs. Great food. You'd love it."
Ianto sighed, gustily. "Topic, please." He lowered his hands and stepped forward, forcing Jack to look him in the face. "This is a bad idea."
"Do you have a better one?" Jack dropped his gaze and looked away, softening his tone as he continued, "I don't have time to fight about this. Just go see what the cops are wound up about. If it's more than you can handle, call me."
"What about Rhys?" Ianto asked in the tension-filled silence.
Jack checked his gun one last time and shoved it in his holster. "He's coming with me."
"Going to recruit him now, too?" Ianto crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.
That earned him a sour look in response. "At least I can keep an eye on him this way." To reinforce his point, Jack brushed past Ianto and shouted down to the main level. "Rhys. What happens if I tell you to go home?"
Rhys shouted back. "I tell you to piss off and go look for my wife by myself!"
Jack returned to Ianto and shrugged. "See? This way I can keep an eye on him and keep him out of trouble. Now, we've wasted enough time. Get moving." In a softer tone, he added, "And be safe." He barrelled out of the office, coattails flapping against his long-legged stride. "Rhys!" he bellowed from the top of the catwalk. "Let's find Gwen."
Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, before following Jack out of the office to collect his jacket and JJ.
"So, why didn't Gwen have her wheels?" Jack asked. He needed to get Rhys talking. It wasn't the best time for a friendly chat, but Gwen wouldn't forgive him if he allowed her spouse to make himself sick with worry. Especially if it turned out to be over nothing. He buttoned his greatcoat against the chill and glanced up at the sky. A storm was moving in. The stars were rapidly being obscured by a grey blanket of clouds. He glanced over at Rhys, who was keeping pace at his side. For a big guy, he moved well.
"Fuel line was being a bit tetchy. Stuttering in the cold. She was going to drop it off at the garage and have it sorted." Rhys stopped dead in his tracks. "The garage." He glanced down at his watch. "Bloody hell." He pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and stabbed at the buttons. "Phil. Yeah, mate, it's me, Rhys. Yeah, I know the time. Sorry. Yeah, that's why I've called. Listen, Gwen's working late, and I've just packed it in myself." He looked over at Jack and shook his head. "No, I figured she didn't call you. Head in the clouds, that one, lately. No, mate, don't trouble yourself. I'll collect the car myself tomorrow. Yeah, I owe you one." He snapped the phone shut. "Not a word."
"It was a thought," Jack said. He made a hesitant move towards laying a consoling hand on Rhys's shoulder, but the other man was moving again, stalking across the street.
He made the crossing, then turned on Jack. "I don't understand it," he said, stabbing a finger at the air. "You put a bloody GPS on the car. Why haven't you done the same for Gwen?"
"Whoa, whoa!" Jack threw up his hands in a gesture of self-defence. "Will you listen to yourself? Rhys, I know you're worried, but you've got to calm down."
"I am bloody calm!" he spat back through gritted teeth. "I just want to know why my wife is missing. And why you, Mr. Alien Technology, light-years ahead of us mere mortals, can't do more about it."
Jack frowned. "How did you know we put a tracker on Gwen's car?"
Rhys looked smug. "Found it last month when the muffler came loose. Thought about asking you for a copy of whatever you use to trace it with. Figured it might come in dead handy some day."
"It's classified." Jack sighed. "Gwen's not tagged because microchip technology isn't that reliable. Torchwood One was keen on the idea for a while. The chips either migrated to inconvenient places, or they became inoperative due to exposure to-" He shut his mouth abruptly, not wanting to upset Rhys further, but it was too late.
"Exposure to what?" Rhys demanded.
Jack drew a breath and let it out slowly. "Energy. Not all of it the garden-variety Earth type." He held up his hands again, warding off another barrage of questions. "We keep tabs on it. There's no reason to worry about Gwen's health. It's just hard on electronic devices." He gave Rhys a tentative smile. "You should see our budget for mobiles and PDAs."
Rhys didn't look convinced, but he let the subject drop.
"Right," Gwen said as she ran a hand through her hair and pushed it away from her face. "I'm stuck in a room. By myself."
She rose from the spot where she crouched against the wall and did another circuit of her prison. Her initial search of the room hadn't revealed much more than that it was about twelve by twelve, as measured in footsteps. The walls were hard, but not metallic, at least not any metal she was familiar with, and on several of them there appeared to be non-functioning equipment panels. The floor where she'd awoken was divided. Half was raised six inches above the rest and the surface seemed different, as if it were composed of another material. If there was a door, she couldn't find it.
"Am I a prisoner?" Gwen shook her head and wished she hadn't. She was still groggy and disorientated, and now she was queasy. It made no sense. If she were a prisoner then she should have been searched. She still had her bag and her gun, now snugged between the waistband of her jeans and her belt. "My mobile! Idiot! Why didn't I think of that sooner?" Another quick rummage brought it to hand. She auto-dialled Jack.
And got nothing.
Fighting down panic, she tried Ianto.
Ianto pulled into a hotel car park, waved through the cordon by a constable who looked like he subsisted on a diet of coffee and antacids. He squinted at Ianto's Torchwood identification card, looked hard into his eyes, and back at the card again. "I suppose that's you," the constable acknowledged reluctantly, before waving them through.
"Cheerful sort," Ianto said to JJ. "I'll bet he's a laugh at parties." He straightened the line of his leather coat over the bulge of his twin holsters and gestured for his companion to do the same before heading to the back of the SUV for the evidence kit. "It rarely pays to be obvious."
The reception at the inner cordon wasn't much warmer. The female constable assigned as gatekeeper practically shoved the sign-in clipboard at them, then repeated the same inspection. She scrutinised Ianto and JJ, and their signatures, carefully, before admitting them. News of their arrival spread quickly. As they moved deeper into the murder scene, there was a general discontented murmur as knots of investigating officers and technicians became aware of the presence of Torchwood.
"Excuse me, Constable Malik," Ianto said to a passing uniformed officer. "Can you tell me who's in charge?"
She nodded and pointed out the senior detective. Ianto frowned. The last time they had a run in with DI Gunderson, it had nearly come to blows. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Gunderson glowered at them the moment Andy Davidson notified his superior of their presence.
"It just stands to reason you lot would show up," Gunderson said by way of greeting. He looked around the car park and the frown lines under his greying five o'clock shadow deepened as he regarded them without enthusiasm. "Where's your boss or that upstart Cooper?"
JJ pushed forward, an equally pugnacious expression sharpening his features. "Listen you- Ooof!"
Ianto smoothly elbowed him in the stomach, as he stepped forward and held out his hand. "Ianto Jones. I believe we may have met before. Captain Harkness and Ms. Cooper are investigating other avenues of enquiry. My associate and I will be processing the scene as quickly as possible so that you can get on with your work."
Under Ianto's display of unrelenting politeness, Gunderson softened a fraction. "You look a bit young for this sort of thing," he commented before whistling for a junior scene of crime officer to bring a pair of bunny suits and booties over.
"It's the clothes," Ianto grumbled as he gave Gunderson a feeble smile. The senior detective wore a pair of blue shoe covers, but in deference to his lofty position, (and his well known dislike of getting too close to corpses), was still attired in his normal street clothes: a mud brown suit that might have been fashionable sometime during the Thatcher era, and a paisley tie garish enough that it should have rated its own section in the criminal code. "I'm afraid you caught me on my night off."
The technician arrived, arms full of packages. He doled them out to Ianto and JJ, touched a finger to his temple and bowed slightly, before he jogged off to the call of a senior SOCO. JJ started to offer a two finger salute. Ianto gave him a stern look. Chastened, JJ curled his fingers into his fist and lowered his hand.
"Can you blame them?" Ianto asked softly as he turned his back on Gunderson and tore open the wrapper of the protective clothing. "We come in and wave our credentials around. They feel threatened." He stepped into the coveralls, pulled them up as far as his waist and considered the leather jacket. It was generous enough to hide his shoulder holsters, but not so bulky it would be a nuisance under the protective suit. And there was a wind blowing. He observed, absently, that JJ was watching him, discreetly, waiting for his decision. Ianto kept the jacket. He zipped the suit closed, but left the hood down. Once they stepped into the protective foot covers, they became two more in the crowd.
"I hope you missed your tea," Gunderson said as they neared the actual crime scene. The smell of blood and worse hung heavy on the air.
JJ gagged, swallowed hard, choked, and coughed roughly, as he tried to get his reflexes under control.
"Just breathe through it," Ianto counselled. "And concentrate on the work."
"Victim was heading for his car," Gunderson said. He pointed towards a late model black Toyota. "Never made it." They walked past a series of yellow plastic placards, each one delineating a blood spatter. "Body's here," he announced, as if somehow they could miss the horribly obvious. At the centre of a ring of portable lights lay the remains of a man.
"Oh my God," JJ whispered. His sallow complexion paled as he bent double.
"Poor soul." Ianto removed a scanner from the black canvas bag he had slung over his shoulder. "JJ, photograph the crime scene. Document as much as you can." He knelt, examining the body, frowning thoughtfully. The near decapitation didn't look like something caused by a weevil's claws, and a Hoix normally only went after the dead or dying unless it was very hungry or defending a meal. It didn't seem to fit any pattern he was familiar with. As Ianto peered closer, he carefully pulled back the man's jacket and the remains of his jumper and asked softly, "Are those punctures?" Pulling a pair of callipers out of the bag, he measured the wounds and whistled softly.
Above him, Gunderson was answering a phone call. "Damn. No, I'll be on my way in five minutes." He shoved the phone back into his pocket. "You better hurry, gentlemen. Our perp just struck again." Gunderson stalked off to meet a tall, dark woman in a pair of very form-fitting coveralls. She carried a black tackle box, and an air of absolute authority.
JJ stopped snapping pictures. "We should follow him to the other crime scene. We might get a lead."
Ianto looked up from the scanner he was using to measure residual energy signatures. The needle was jumping erratically. Faint traces of Rift energy still clung to the victim, but there was something else. An energy reading he'd seen before but couldn't quite recall. "We'll go as soon as we finish here." He stood as the medical officer approached, discreetly dropping the tech back into his bag.
She gave him a look, one he'd learnt long ago to let roll off his back. "Have you solved the murder yet?"
"Good evening to you, too, Dr. Sanchez," Ianto said politely, as if he hadn't heard anything but a cordial greeting. "Rather messy, this one."
She surveyed the corpse. One eyebrow lifted as she noticed the head, barely attached to the body by fragments of skin. "Shine your torch there," Sanchez said to Ianto, indicating the victim's chest. He obliged her, training the bright, white beam on the carnage. She carefully knelt, avoiding the blood spatter, then opened the tackle box-like tool kit and retrieved a pair of forceps and a small wide-mouth plastic bottle. Unscrewing the lid, she passed it to Ianto. "Hold that." He took it from her as she scrutinised the ruined flesh. She sniffed. "Smell that?"
Ianto looked at her, perplexed. "I smell blood. Well, blood and-"
Sanchez shook her head at him. "No, not that. Ozone. It's faint, but definitely there."
Ianto knelt back down and took a cautious sniff. "You're right. I thought I detected something earlier, but it was out of context. But why the jar?" he asked, indicating the lid he still held in the hand not holding the torch.
"Doesn't look like a knife wound. Not nearly enough blood considering the injury. Messy, but not what you'd expect. Could the body have been moved?" Dr. Sanchez looked up at Ianto as if she'd forgotten his presence. "Right. Sorry, I got distracted. There's something caught here, between the shell and the lining of this coat. Look at this." She used the forceps to extract something long and curved from the rent in the fabric. "It looks sort of like a cat's claw." She held it up to the torchlight. "A very big cat's claw." Sanchez dropped it into the jar and reached for the lid in Ianto's hand.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dr. Sanchez. The body is yours. However this is now the property of Torchwood." He held out his hand for the jar.
With a sour scowl, she passed it over. "Is there any point?" Sanchez stood and with an encompassing wave of her hand, indicated the evidence technicians and other officers working the murder scene.
Ianto sighed. It was an old argument and one not likely to be solved any time soon. "That's not for me to say." He offered his hand.
Dr. Sanchez shook her head. "I'll finish going through the motions, if that's all right with you. If I find anything else, of course, I'll let you lot know." She whistled for another officer to take over as her assistant, and turned her attention back to the corpse.
Ianto trained his torch on the claw in the jar. It was just a fragment, but the piece recovered was nearly an inch long. The doctor was right; it did look a bit like an over-sized cat's claw. He looked around trying to locate JJ and found him talking to one of the beat cops. They had their heads bent close together in a rather conspiratorial manner. JJ had a small notebook in one hand, a pen in the other. He was scribbling as the constable spoke. With long strides, Ianto crossed to meet them.
He smiled politely at the constable and raised an eyebrow at JJ. "A word?"
"Sure, I think Constable Evans and I are about done here anyway." He fired a cocky salute at the man.
Evans winked back. "Stay frosty."
"Great guy," JJ said as they moved away. "Not like most of the rest of this lot. Loves a good gab." He tapped Ianto's bicep to get his attention as a sudden notion struck. "We should groom him. He'd make a great source."
Ianto resisted reaching for the notebook still clutched in JJ's hand, but only just. "Anything interesting to report?" he asked as he dug out the SUV keys, and with a tip of his head, indicated they were leaving.
"The guy that found the body has been transported to St. Helen's," JJ related. "He was totally babbling when they found him. The cops couldn't get a word out of him that wasn't a variation on 'monster' or 'blood'. They drugged him up to his eyeballs as soon as the paramedics got on scene, so no joy there."
Ianto tossed his gear on the back seat, then stripped hastily out of the protective coveralls and shoe liners, adding them to the pile, while JJ did the same. It wasn't until he was behind the wheel that he realised Gunderson hadn't told him where the next victim had been found. A constable was getting out of the panda car parked next to them. Ianto rolled down the window and leaned out. "Do you know where DI Gunderson was heading?"
Fortunately, the copper was one Ianto had developed a friendly relationship with in those first awful months after the Cardiff Bombing. Constable Marion Chang smiled in weary recognition. The smile widened into an appreciative grin as she leaned against the wing mirror and noticed his casual clothing. "That's a new look."
"Date night," Ianto replied coolly. "Or at least it would have been if this hadn't come up." It wasn't his habit to flaunt, but Chang had made her interest in him plain. And she hadn't been overly discouraged when he had made it known that there was already someone else in the picture.
She looked a little smug over his ruined plans, but concealed it quickly. "Hang on, I'll check the log." She ducked back into her car, and returned with an address scrawled into her notepad. "There you go." She handed him the scrap of paper. "Stay clear of the Bogey Man."
"The what?" Ianto asked, not sure he had heard her correctly.
"That's what they're calling it," Chang replied. "'Cause whoever is doing this has got to be something out of a nightmare."
The Hunt: Part Two
The Hunt
by: beesandbrews, such_heights
"Okay, boys, the reading's coming from somewhere to your left," Gwen said into her headset as she peered at the energy patterns on the computer screen.
"Thanks, Gwen, that's very specific, very helpful." Ianto sounded exasperated over the channel.
"Sorry, I'm doing my best." She reached for her mug of coffee, cupping it between her hands. "What's the weather like out there?"
"Bloody awful," JJ grumbled. "This is..." He paused, and Gwen could hear a squelching sound in the background. "This is disgusting."
"Okay, enough grousing," Jack cut in. "Gwen, are you getting any indicators about how big this thing is?"
"Hang on." Gwen tapped a few quick commands. "It looks more like a collection of small things. Maybe whatever it is broke up when it landed?"
"Or maybe it brought company," Ianto muttered.
Gwen rolled her eyes. It was pointless in the empty Hub, but it made her feel better. "Just hurry up and find whatever it is, would you? Some of us have homes to go to."
"It's all right for you," said JJ. "At least you're dry."
Jack cut in over his subordinates. "The sooner we're done, the sooner we can all get on with our lives."
There was silence on the comms at that, and Gwen leaned back in her chair, checking the clock on her computer. With any luck she'd actually finish up with work in time, collect her car from the garage and meet up with Rhys. Maybe she'd take him out to a nice meal first before delivering her news. She glanced at the notepad beside her mouse where she'd scribbled down numerous different opening lines and a variety of strategies for delivering them. She was reasonably sure that telling your partner you were pregnant was not supposed to be so complicated under ordinary circumstances. But then again, her circumstances were far from ordinary.
She could hear chatter over the line: Jack giving instructions; JJ responding. But it wasn't directed at her, so she settled back in her seat and took a sip of coffee. Gwen regarded the mug and sighed. “I'm going to miss this.” She had already cut back, but cutting coffee out of her life entirely was proving more difficult than she imagined. Gwen took another sip, savouring it as she picked up the notepad and jotted down a few more ideas.
There was a triumphant shout from Ianto, loud enough over the comm to get her attention. "Sorry," Gwen said, dropping the pad and putting a hand to her ear. "Repeat that."
"What is that?" JJ asked. He sounded curious, but also somewhat put off.
"Ianto, what have you got there?" asked Gwen.
"It's-" Ianto grunted as though he were pulling at something. The grunt was rapidly followed by a loud, wet, slurping sound. "Hang on, let me run a scan."
"It looks like a fishmonger's nightmare," JJ said for Gwen's benefit. "It's got... Jack, those are tentacles?"
Jack laughed. "Don't sound so surprised."
"Looks harmless," said Ianto.
"Looks dead," replied Jack. "Right, let's clean up here and head back to base. See you soon, Gwen!"
"See you." Gwen severed the connection.
She looked back at her notepad, trying on expressions as she contemplated the opening lines she'd scratched on the page. Which mood to go for? Breezy, serious, happy, or scared out of her mind? She was all of those things.
Gwen knew what Rhys's reaction would be. She could already see the beaming smile on his face. He would be thrilled and, because he was, she would be, too; no matter if doubt niggled at her. She looked around the Hub and sighed. Not exactly the most inviting environment for a child. There were disused rooms and offices. She wondered if Jack could be persuaded to set one up as a nursery. Gwen added a note to her list.
The proximity alarm sounded forty-five minutes later. Gwen looked up and regarded her colleagues with amused sympathy.
"Ugh," said JJ with feeling, shaking himself off in the entrance. He looked down at his sodden and muddy clothes and groaned. "I'll never get this gunk out of my shirt."
"It's just a little mud. Well, mud and manure. I told you to be careful climbing over that fence," Jack said, clapping JJ on the shoulder.
Ianto looked as if he was about to say something, then thought better of it, opening his mouth, and then shaking his head with his lips pressed firmly together. Gwen giggled as she imagined the nature of his comment, but pulled herself back under control. "What have you got there?" she asked, changing the subject.
Ianto hefted up a clear plastic sack. Inside there was a large brick-red mass, with many appendages, and some sort of secretion slowly filling the bag. "God only knows."
"And we can wait until tomorrow to find out," Jack added. "Go home, Gwen."
"Brilliant," she replied whilst buttoning up her jacket. A fresh wave of nerves rolled over her. "Wish me luck!"
"What for?" JJ asked.
"You're about to tell Rhys the big news, aren't you?" Ianto guessed.
Gwen nodded.
"Then what's to be worried about?" Jack asked, walking over to squeeze her hand. "He's about to be the happiest man in Wales."
"Yeah, I know," Gwen said quietly, swallowing her misgivings. She smiled at Jack. "Well, I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow. Have a good night, boys!"
As she made her way out of the Hub she sent a quick message to Rhys. Just on my way home now, got something to talk to you about. See you soon. x
The Plass was cold and windy when she reached ground level. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, bowed her head and trudged off towards Riverside. Evening shoppers were making their way toward bus stops and car parks, and everything was reassuringly ordinary. As she walked, it seemed easier to believe that everything was going to be all right, that Rhys's happiness would be enough for them both.
She gradually drew away from the shops and noise, and headed toward the quieter, but no less industrious area, where Rhys's mate Phil kept his small garage. As she reached the corner, a humming noise caught her attention. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but it grew louder and louder. Gwen whirled around, looking for the source, but aside from a few cars driving away from her, there was no one in sight. Her hand went to her bag, ready to draw her pistol.
The noise grew focused. Sharp. It centred directly above her head. She stared upwards and saw a pinprick of light growing rapidly larger, brighter, until the glow overtook her sight, her thoughts, her senses. Everything.
"All right?" Jack asked, walking over to Ianto and resting a hand on his shoulder.
"I'd say the chances of this thing releasing some kind of toxin into the Hub while we're gone are minimal," Ianto replied as he sealed the tank where he'd stored the alien. "Sure you don't know what it is?"
Jack peered through the glass, tracing out the shape of the creature, the mottled red colour of its skin. "No idea. Right now, it's just another victim of the Rift," he said, his voice tinged with melancholy. "Maybe tomorrow we can put a name to it."
Ianto pressed his fingers gently against Jack's hand then stepped away. "Well, I'm off to clean up."
"You're still on for tonight, right?" Ianto gave him a quizzical look and Jack realised he must have sounded as nervous as he suddenly felt. "I mean, after our day out in the field, we could order in, take it easy."
Ianto looked at him with tolerant affection. "Yes, Jack, I'm still on for tonight, but after our trip to the countryside I'd like a shower and a change of clothes." He sniffed delicately at his sleeve where some of the alien secretion clung and grimaced. "And I'd prefer to use something else besides eau du slime as cologne."
"You're so provincial sometimes." Jack grinned at Ianto, the sudden bout of nerves gone as quickly as it had risen.
"I promise my dull, twenty-first century ways won't take long," Ianto replied, refusing to take Jack's bait.
"We could clean up together," Jack offered. "Start the night off with some soapy fun."
"Date first," Ianto said patiently. "Soapy fun later." Ianto's tone was pedantic, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he retreated toward the employee showers.
JJ leaned over the railings. "Anything else you need, Jack?"
"No, you're a free man," he replied. "Just go and close up the tourist office, would you?"
JJ nodded. "Will do."
"Oh and, JJ?" Jack called. "Good job this evening."
JJ turned back and grinned. "Thanks! It was... well, fun might be too strong a word."
Jack answered JJ's grin with one of his own. "Oh, you love it, really."
"If you say so," JJ muttered good-naturedly, then turned and headed for ground level.
Jack shrugged off his damp coat and headed up to his office. He glanced at his desk as he hung the coat on its hook and groaned at the prospect of the last few tedious tasks of the day that were awaiting him. He looked down at his mud-spattered clothes and decided that work could wait.
Military training served him well. Jack was back at his desk, showered, styled, and dressed for a night on the town in less than twenty minutes. He scanned through his emails, sorting them into three categories: to Gwen if they needed some kind of human response, to JJ if they were unimportant but interesting, and to Ianto if there was information that needed filing away. It was a swift delegation process, and it left him with half a dozen tedious missives from the Home Office that no doubt required his immediate attention. He flagged them to deal with in the morning. His eyes lit up as he saw a message from Martha. He read that one with much more eagerness, grinning at the gossip-filled note.
He sent off a quick reply, promising more detail tomorrow, but in the meantime there was a cute young thing downstairs waiting to be taken out, and who was Jack to delay him?
Jack knew perfectly well Martha would forward that to Ianto, probably within the hour, and that was half the fun.
He signed off, grabbed his coat, flicked a bit of mud off the lapel, and started to shrug into it as he exited his office. He was pleased to see Ianto, standing near his work station, looking both impatient and gorgeous. Jack was half-tempted to cancel dinner and spend the evening unwrapping Ianto instead, peeling him out of that caramel-coloured jumper and those strikingly well-tailored black trousers.
Before he could say something suitably risqué, JJ called his name over the loudspeaker.
"What?" Jack asked shortly, hoping against hope it'd be nothing that would keep him at work.
"There's this bloke in the tourist office, says he wants to see you, says he's-"
"Oi," came a strident Welsh voice that Jack knew only too well. "You tell him who I am and take me down into your secret lair-thing right now."
"JJ, put me on with Rhys," Jack said, sighing and raising his eyebrows at Ianto, who frowned.
"Jack, have you heard from Gwen?" Rhys asked, once the comm had been passed over.
"No," Jack said slowly, "she left for home about an hour ago."
"Well, she's not at home. She called me, said she was on her way, and now I can't get through to her."
"She probably just got sidetracked. I'm sure she's fine. But," Jack added, cutting through the beginnings of an indignant rant from Rhys, "before you start yelling at me, I'm going to tell JJ to bring you down here, and we'll work out where she is. Should only take a couple of minutes."
Once he heard the telltale sound of the door swinging open above them, he turned to Ianto. "Okay, start checking the camera network. See if you can track down Gwen. I'll try her mobile."
"Think there's a problem?"
"I think," Jack said as he hit the speed dial on his telephone, "Rhys gets a little excitable sometimes. I also think that Gwen can look after herself. But there's no harm in putting his mind at rest and this should win me some good-boss points from Gwen." He glanced down at the phone in his hand and frowned. "Caller unavailable." He punched the speed dial again.
"Right," said Ianto as the mainframe fed data to the monitor in front of him. "Gwen last used her phone up on the Plass, at 18:49. CCTV shows her heading toward home."
Jack came over to watch as Ianto rapidly flicked through images that showed nothing out of the ordinary. Ianto glanced at him, looking puzzled, and Jack folded his arms.
"Wait, that's not her usual route," Jack said as Gwen crossed left instead of right.
Ianto switched cameras. "Maybe she had an errand to run." Images continued to flicker past. Then, without warning, Gwen vanished.
"What?" Jack said sharply. "Scroll back."
Ianto was already on it. "Looks like there's a blind spot here," he said.
In one frame, Gwen was standing on a street corner, waiting to cross a road. In the next, some way down the pavement after the crossing, she was gone without a trace.
The doors rolled back, and Rhys strode into the Hub, worry masked by anger. "Well? You found her with all your whiz-bang technology yet?"
"Working on it," Jack told him coolly.
"Shit." Rhys passed a hand roughly over his face.
"She's probably fine," Ianto added absently as he switched to a different camera view.
"Probably?" Rhys repeated. "Christ."
Gwen stirred. She had an immediate sense of being somewhere unknown, but not a lot else as she groggily lifted her head. There was an utter absence of light. No matter how she squinted and strained, Gwen couldn't see so much as the hand she held in front of her face. It was unnerving. The floor beneath her was cold and soothing against her aching head, but she pushed off and up, scrambling to her knees and feeling for any sort of purchase to help her climb to her feet. Her hand brushed against her bag and she clutched it to her chest, fumbling for the zip with clumsy fingers.
"Hello?" she called out warily. "Anyone there?" There was nothing but silence in reply. "What the hell?" she muttered.
Gwen took a deep breath, trying to clear her still-spinning head, and choked on the stale, metallic-smelling air. At last, she worked the zipper open and dipped inside her handbag. Her fingers closed on a pencil-sized torch. Flipping it on, she played the beam around the walls and floor.
Gwen was, indeed, alone.
"So where is she, then?" Rhys tapped the glass of the monitor and looked at Jack. "All these cameras, and you're telling me she can just vanish," he snapped his fingers, "like that?"
"It's not that simple." Jack watched the images replay again. "Ianto, capture those frames and run a comprehensive analysis. Then check the rest of the cameras in the area."
Ianto's long fingers were already playing over the keys and a moment later, the result of his work displayed on the monitor. "I've run a diagnostic on the camera. Other than that glitch it appears to be functioning normally." He looked over his shoulder at JJ. "Use that workstation. See if you can't pick up Gwen's trail."
JJ's worried features brightened at the opportunity, but then his brow furrowed. "What if she got cold feet and ducked-"
Rhys seized on JJ's comment. "Cold feet? What would Gwen need to get cold feet about?" He rounded on Jack, the root of so many of his domestic problems. "Well?"
"Socks," Ianto supplied. "JJ meant, maybe she stopped at the corner shop for some thick socks. The environmental systems have been a bit temperamental lately." He improvised a theatrical shiver. "Brr, cold."
"Right," Jack said, elaborating as he engaged in an eyebrow pantomime with Ianto. "And since Gwen has been on the comms rota when we go on field missions, she's been bearing the brunt of it."
Rhys gave the pair of them a dark look, considering the plausibility of the excuse. "It feels all right in here to me."
"It's very erratic," Ianto said with a hopeless shrug. "Freezing one minute, baking the next. I've tried to find the fault, but there are only so many hours in the day."
Rhys regarded Ianto for a long moment, and then his face softened. "If it's as bad as you say, I know a bloke that does good work at a fair rate. I don't want Gwen coming down with something if she's going to be stuck in this dank hole of yours."
Jack opened his mouth to protest the slight to his home, but Ianto cut him smoothly off. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that."
Rhys turned his attention back to JJ. "Well, you find anything?"
JJ, distracted by the verbal interplay, started. "Sorry, system needed a minute to get warmed up," he temporised. He stared at the keyboard for a second, then his fingers began to move. The next CCTV camera in line showed the same street, just a little further down the road. People and cars passed by, but there was no sign of Gwen. He scanned the images from each camera in sequence for a mile. "Nothing."
He hesitated briefly, then announced, "Switching to the camera going north." The view transitioned, but the result was the same. More pedestrian traffic, a mugging foiled when a local constable walked out of a corner grocery straight into the action, but no Gwen.
JJ switched cameras again. Rhys danced on the balls of his feet, growing increasingly frustrated as JJ continued to scan images, widening his search parameters further and further until Jack put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.
"Despite what you see on television, CCTV isn't the be all and end all it's supposed to be. A lot of stuff gets under the radar." He blew out a breath. "Ianto, anything?"
On screen, an hourglass flipped over and over again. "Still running analysis."
"What's that mean?" Rhys demanded. "What are you looking for?"
Jack gave Rhys a reassuring smile. He clapped one hand on the big man's shoulder and led him away from the workstations. "This could take a minute. Let's go get a coffee-"
Rhys shrugged out from under Jack's palm. "I don't want a bloody coffee, Jack. I want to know what happened to my wife!"
Jack took a calming breath, and nodded. "I know. And we're working on it. But we can't lose our heads. Gwen's a big girl and she's good at taking care of herself. Right?" He projected all the confidence he could in the gaze he fixed on Rhys. "Right?"
Rhys huffed out a frustrated sigh, conceding the point. "Right."
"Analysis complete," Ianto announced. The printer under the work station hummed and sheets dropped into the output tray. Ianto picked them up, glanced at them, and cocked his head towards Jack's office, indicating that he wanted to make his report privately.
"Just give us a second, okay?" Jack guided Rhys, shoulders slumped with concern, toward the sofa. The big man sat and put his head into his hands. Jack squeezed his shoulder, then followed Ianto up to his office.
"Tell me," Jack said as soon as he closed the door.
Ianto fed a plastic sheet into Jack's printer and hit the start button. It whirred to life and Ianto waited for it to complete its job before he cleared a space on the desk and set the pages he carried with him down. "Energy readings. An electromagnetic spike that interrupted the camera operation for three-tenths of a second. But that's not the disturbing part." He pointed to the second page. Cardiff lay spread out before them. "CCTV coverage map." He retrieved the page from the printer and laid it over the map. "Rift spikes. There was a small cluster of them right around the time Gwen disappeared. Jack..." He paused and placed his fingers over Jack's. "One of the spikes was negative."
"Oh, no." Jack closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. No. No. It's a coincidence. You are not telling me Gwen was swept up by the Rift."
Ianto squeezed Jack's fingers, offering a small comfort. "No, I'm not. It's merely suggestive, not definitive. But it is a possibility."
Jack's phone rang. He yanked it from his pocket and glanced at the display, his face falling at the unfamiliar number. "Jack Harkness." He listened for a few seconds. "No, Andy. Well, she has been known to shut it off occasionally." He mouthed 'Gwen's pet copper' at Ianto. "That's very helpful of you. You've got a what? Where? Right. No. We'll be there." Jack dropped the phone on the desk and pressed his fingers against his temple. "As if the night couldn't get any better." He smiled apologetically at Ianto. "The locals have a-" Jack air-quoted "-spooky do. I need you to take JJ and see what they're on about."
"What sort of a spooky do?" Ianto asked, guardedly. If they were being called out because some teenager decided she was going to paint mystic symbols on her bedroom wall and then top herself again, he would see that Gwen had words with her friends on the force as soon as they found her.
Jack tore the address off his notepad. He looked at it, looked down at the map with its cluster of Rift spike markers, and frowned. "He wasn't real specific. Just said it was messy and up our street. Going by this map, I'd say he might be right." He showed Ianto the address and then pointed at a location. "Take the SUV. Check it out."
"What are you going to do in the meantime?" Ianto looked down at the lower level. JJ was working on something, head down, shooting the occasional nervous glance in Rhys's direction. Rhys was pacing, too agitated with worry to stay still for long.
"Jack?" JJ's voice sounded tinny coming over the telephone intercom. "The police band is going mad. Report of multiple attacks by an unidentified assailant. There are six victims en route to hospital."
Jack growled. "Why tonight? I had such plans." He gave Ianto a harried glance and scooped the receiver up to reply. "Location?"
"Within a two mile radius of Gwen's disappearance."
"Damn it." Jack severed the connection. He took a deep breath. "All right, divide and conquer. Contain the situation, and find Gwen. Ianto, be careful." His gaze was intent as he said, "I don't want anybody getting hurt tonight."
Ianto nodded, the implied message understood. He broke the eye lock and looked out through the window. "We should leave JJ on comms to coordinate."
As if he felt Ianto's gaze, JJ looked up with a curious expression.
"Can't afford the luxury," Jack countered. He was at his desk, stuffing his pockets with rounds for his Webley. "He's done fine in the field so far. Tonight won't be any different."
Ianto turned, hands on his hips. "He's only been on routine recovery missions. Nothing dangerous. I know you believe in trial by fire, Jack, but-"
"Then don't let him get burned," Jack snapped back. "This is work. I'm the captain. You're the loyal batman. Remember? What I say goes."
Ianto looked around the confines of Jack's office, his eyes wide with mock-surprise. "Really, and here's me thinking we were on holiday in Brighton. I don't know how I could have got the two confused."
"There are times sarcasm doesn't become you." Jack dropped one hand to his hip in a parody of Ianto and poked the other toward the younger man's chest. "And this is one of those times." His brow furrowed. "Wait, you want to holiday in Brighton? 'Cause I know this little place. En suite baths with jacuzzi tubs. Great food. You'd love it."
Ianto sighed, gustily. "Topic, please." He lowered his hands and stepped forward, forcing Jack to look him in the face. "This is a bad idea."
"Do you have a better one?" Jack dropped his gaze and looked away, softening his tone as he continued, "I don't have time to fight about this. Just go see what the cops are wound up about. If it's more than you can handle, call me."
"What about Rhys?" Ianto asked in the tension-filled silence.
Jack checked his gun one last time and shoved it in his holster. "He's coming with me."
"Going to recruit him now, too?" Ianto crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.
That earned him a sour look in response. "At least I can keep an eye on him this way." To reinforce his point, Jack brushed past Ianto and shouted down to the main level. "Rhys. What happens if I tell you to go home?"
Rhys shouted back. "I tell you to piss off and go look for my wife by myself!"
Jack returned to Ianto and shrugged. "See? This way I can keep an eye on him and keep him out of trouble. Now, we've wasted enough time. Get moving." In a softer tone, he added, "And be safe." He barrelled out of the office, coattails flapping against his long-legged stride. "Rhys!" he bellowed from the top of the catwalk. "Let's find Gwen."
Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, before following Jack out of the office to collect his jacket and JJ.
"So, why didn't Gwen have her wheels?" Jack asked. He needed to get Rhys talking. It wasn't the best time for a friendly chat, but Gwen wouldn't forgive him if he allowed her spouse to make himself sick with worry. Especially if it turned out to be over nothing. He buttoned his greatcoat against the chill and glanced up at the sky. A storm was moving in. The stars were rapidly being obscured by a grey blanket of clouds. He glanced over at Rhys, who was keeping pace at his side. For a big guy, he moved well.
"Fuel line was being a bit tetchy. Stuttering in the cold. She was going to drop it off at the garage and have it sorted." Rhys stopped dead in his tracks. "The garage." He glanced down at his watch. "Bloody hell." He pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and stabbed at the buttons. "Phil. Yeah, mate, it's me, Rhys. Yeah, I know the time. Sorry. Yeah, that's why I've called. Listen, Gwen's working late, and I've just packed it in myself." He looked over at Jack and shook his head. "No, I figured she didn't call you. Head in the clouds, that one, lately. No, mate, don't trouble yourself. I'll collect the car myself tomorrow. Yeah, I owe you one." He snapped the phone shut. "Not a word."
"It was a thought," Jack said. He made a hesitant move towards laying a consoling hand on Rhys's shoulder, but the other man was moving again, stalking across the street.
He made the crossing, then turned on Jack. "I don't understand it," he said, stabbing a finger at the air. "You put a bloody GPS on the car. Why haven't you done the same for Gwen?"
"Whoa, whoa!" Jack threw up his hands in a gesture of self-defence. "Will you listen to yourself? Rhys, I know you're worried, but you've got to calm down."
"I am bloody calm!" he spat back through gritted teeth. "I just want to know why my wife is missing. And why you, Mr. Alien Technology, light-years ahead of us mere mortals, can't do more about it."
Jack frowned. "How did you know we put a tracker on Gwen's car?"
Rhys looked smug. "Found it last month when the muffler came loose. Thought about asking you for a copy of whatever you use to trace it with. Figured it might come in dead handy some day."
"It's classified." Jack sighed. "Gwen's not tagged because microchip technology isn't that reliable. Torchwood One was keen on the idea for a while. The chips either migrated to inconvenient places, or they became inoperative due to exposure to-" He shut his mouth abruptly, not wanting to upset Rhys further, but it was too late.
"Exposure to what?" Rhys demanded.
Jack drew a breath and let it out slowly. "Energy. Not all of it the garden-variety Earth type." He held up his hands again, warding off another barrage of questions. "We keep tabs on it. There's no reason to worry about Gwen's health. It's just hard on electronic devices." He gave Rhys a tentative smile. "You should see our budget for mobiles and PDAs."
Rhys didn't look convinced, but he let the subject drop.
"Right," Gwen said as she ran a hand through her hair and pushed it away from her face. "I'm stuck in a room. By myself."
She rose from the spot where she crouched against the wall and did another circuit of her prison. Her initial search of the room hadn't revealed much more than that it was about twelve by twelve, as measured in footsteps. The walls were hard, but not metallic, at least not any metal she was familiar with, and on several of them there appeared to be non-functioning equipment panels. The floor where she'd awoken was divided. Half was raised six inches above the rest and the surface seemed different, as if it were composed of another material. If there was a door, she couldn't find it.
"Am I a prisoner?" Gwen shook her head and wished she hadn't. She was still groggy and disorientated, and now she was queasy. It made no sense. If she were a prisoner then she should have been searched. She still had her bag and her gun, now snugged between the waistband of her jeans and her belt. "My mobile! Idiot! Why didn't I think of that sooner?" Another quick rummage brought it to hand. She auto-dialled Jack.
And got nothing.
Fighting down panic, she tried Ianto.
Ianto pulled into a hotel car park, waved through the cordon by a constable who looked like he subsisted on a diet of coffee and antacids. He squinted at Ianto's Torchwood identification card, looked hard into his eyes, and back at the card again. "I suppose that's you," the constable acknowledged reluctantly, before waving them through.
"Cheerful sort," Ianto said to JJ. "I'll bet he's a laugh at parties." He straightened the line of his leather coat over the bulge of his twin holsters and gestured for his companion to do the same before heading to the back of the SUV for the evidence kit. "It rarely pays to be obvious."
The reception at the inner cordon wasn't much warmer. The female constable assigned as gatekeeper practically shoved the sign-in clipboard at them, then repeated the same inspection. She scrutinised Ianto and JJ, and their signatures, carefully, before admitting them. News of their arrival spread quickly. As they moved deeper into the murder scene, there was a general discontented murmur as knots of investigating officers and technicians became aware of the presence of Torchwood.
"Excuse me, Constable Malik," Ianto said to a passing uniformed officer. "Can you tell me who's in charge?"
She nodded and pointed out the senior detective. Ianto frowned. The last time they had a run in with DI Gunderson, it had nearly come to blows. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Gunderson glowered at them the moment Andy Davidson notified his superior of their presence.
"It just stands to reason you lot would show up," Gunderson said by way of greeting. He looked around the car park and the frown lines under his greying five o'clock shadow deepened as he regarded them without enthusiasm. "Where's your boss or that upstart Cooper?"
JJ pushed forward, an equally pugnacious expression sharpening his features. "Listen you- Ooof!"
Ianto smoothly elbowed him in the stomach, as he stepped forward and held out his hand. "Ianto Jones. I believe we may have met before. Captain Harkness and Ms. Cooper are investigating other avenues of enquiry. My associate and I will be processing the scene as quickly as possible so that you can get on with your work."
Under Ianto's display of unrelenting politeness, Gunderson softened a fraction. "You look a bit young for this sort of thing," he commented before whistling for a junior scene of crime officer to bring a pair of bunny suits and booties over.
"It's the clothes," Ianto grumbled as he gave Gunderson a feeble smile. The senior detective wore a pair of blue shoe covers, but in deference to his lofty position, (and his well known dislike of getting too close to corpses), was still attired in his normal street clothes: a mud brown suit that might have been fashionable sometime during the Thatcher era, and a paisley tie garish enough that it should have rated its own section in the criminal code. "I'm afraid you caught me on my night off."
The technician arrived, arms full of packages. He doled them out to Ianto and JJ, touched a finger to his temple and bowed slightly, before he jogged off to the call of a senior SOCO. JJ started to offer a two finger salute. Ianto gave him a stern look. Chastened, JJ curled his fingers into his fist and lowered his hand.
"Can you blame them?" Ianto asked softly as he turned his back on Gunderson and tore open the wrapper of the protective clothing. "We come in and wave our credentials around. They feel threatened." He stepped into the coveralls, pulled them up as far as his waist and considered the leather jacket. It was generous enough to hide his shoulder holsters, but not so bulky it would be a nuisance under the protective suit. And there was a wind blowing. He observed, absently, that JJ was watching him, discreetly, waiting for his decision. Ianto kept the jacket. He zipped the suit closed, but left the hood down. Once they stepped into the protective foot covers, they became two more in the crowd.
"I hope you missed your tea," Gunderson said as they neared the actual crime scene. The smell of blood and worse hung heavy on the air.
JJ gagged, swallowed hard, choked, and coughed roughly, as he tried to get his reflexes under control.
"Just breathe through it," Ianto counselled. "And concentrate on the work."
"Victim was heading for his car," Gunderson said. He pointed towards a late model black Toyota. "Never made it." They walked past a series of yellow plastic placards, each one delineating a blood spatter. "Body's here," he announced, as if somehow they could miss the horribly obvious. At the centre of a ring of portable lights lay the remains of a man.
"Oh my God," JJ whispered. His sallow complexion paled as he bent double.
"Poor soul." Ianto removed a scanner from the black canvas bag he had slung over his shoulder. "JJ, photograph the crime scene. Document as much as you can." He knelt, examining the body, frowning thoughtfully. The near decapitation didn't look like something caused by a weevil's claws, and a Hoix normally only went after the dead or dying unless it was very hungry or defending a meal. It didn't seem to fit any pattern he was familiar with. As Ianto peered closer, he carefully pulled back the man's jacket and the remains of his jumper and asked softly, "Are those punctures?" Pulling a pair of callipers out of the bag, he measured the wounds and whistled softly.
Above him, Gunderson was answering a phone call. "Damn. No, I'll be on my way in five minutes." He shoved the phone back into his pocket. "You better hurry, gentlemen. Our perp just struck again." Gunderson stalked off to meet a tall, dark woman in a pair of very form-fitting coveralls. She carried a black tackle box, and an air of absolute authority.
JJ stopped snapping pictures. "We should follow him to the other crime scene. We might get a lead."
Ianto looked up from the scanner he was using to measure residual energy signatures. The needle was jumping erratically. Faint traces of Rift energy still clung to the victim, but there was something else. An energy reading he'd seen before but couldn't quite recall. "We'll go as soon as we finish here." He stood as the medical officer approached, discreetly dropping the tech back into his bag.
She gave him a look, one he'd learnt long ago to let roll off his back. "Have you solved the murder yet?"
"Good evening to you, too, Dr. Sanchez," Ianto said politely, as if he hadn't heard anything but a cordial greeting. "Rather messy, this one."
She surveyed the corpse. One eyebrow lifted as she noticed the head, barely attached to the body by fragments of skin. "Shine your torch there," Sanchez said to Ianto, indicating the victim's chest. He obliged her, training the bright, white beam on the carnage. She carefully knelt, avoiding the blood spatter, then opened the tackle box-like tool kit and retrieved a pair of forceps and a small wide-mouth plastic bottle. Unscrewing the lid, she passed it to Ianto. "Hold that." He took it from her as she scrutinised the ruined flesh. She sniffed. "Smell that?"
Ianto looked at her, perplexed. "I smell blood. Well, blood and-"
Sanchez shook her head at him. "No, not that. Ozone. It's faint, but definitely there."
Ianto knelt back down and took a cautious sniff. "You're right. I thought I detected something earlier, but it was out of context. But why the jar?" he asked, indicating the lid he still held in the hand not holding the torch.
"Doesn't look like a knife wound. Not nearly enough blood considering the injury. Messy, but not what you'd expect. Could the body have been moved?" Dr. Sanchez looked up at Ianto as if she'd forgotten his presence. "Right. Sorry, I got distracted. There's something caught here, between the shell and the lining of this coat. Look at this." She used the forceps to extract something long and curved from the rent in the fabric. "It looks sort of like a cat's claw." She held it up to the torchlight. "A very big cat's claw." Sanchez dropped it into the jar and reached for the lid in Ianto's hand.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dr. Sanchez. The body is yours. However this is now the property of Torchwood." He held out his hand for the jar.
With a sour scowl, she passed it over. "Is there any point?" Sanchez stood and with an encompassing wave of her hand, indicated the evidence technicians and other officers working the murder scene.
Ianto sighed. It was an old argument and one not likely to be solved any time soon. "That's not for me to say." He offered his hand.
Dr. Sanchez shook her head. "I'll finish going through the motions, if that's all right with you. If I find anything else, of course, I'll let you lot know." She whistled for another officer to take over as her assistant, and turned her attention back to the corpse.
Ianto trained his torch on the claw in the jar. It was just a fragment, but the piece recovered was nearly an inch long. The doctor was right; it did look a bit like an over-sized cat's claw. He looked around trying to locate JJ and found him talking to one of the beat cops. They had their heads bent close together in a rather conspiratorial manner. JJ had a small notebook in one hand, a pen in the other. He was scribbling as the constable spoke. With long strides, Ianto crossed to meet them.
He smiled politely at the constable and raised an eyebrow at JJ. "A word?"
"Sure, I think Constable Evans and I are about done here anyway." He fired a cocky salute at the man.
Evans winked back. "Stay frosty."
"Great guy," JJ said as they moved away. "Not like most of the rest of this lot. Loves a good gab." He tapped Ianto's bicep to get his attention as a sudden notion struck. "We should groom him. He'd make a great source."
Ianto resisted reaching for the notebook still clutched in JJ's hand, but only just. "Anything interesting to report?" he asked as he dug out the SUV keys, and with a tip of his head, indicated they were leaving.
"The guy that found the body has been transported to St. Helen's," JJ related. "He was totally babbling when they found him. The cops couldn't get a word out of him that wasn't a variation on 'monster' or 'blood'. They drugged him up to his eyeballs as soon as the paramedics got on scene, so no joy there."
Ianto tossed his gear on the back seat, then stripped hastily out of the protective coveralls and shoe liners, adding them to the pile, while JJ did the same. It wasn't until he was behind the wheel that he realised Gunderson hadn't told him where the next victim had been found. A constable was getting out of the panda car parked next to them. Ianto rolled down the window and leaned out. "Do you know where DI Gunderson was heading?"
Fortunately, the copper was one Ianto had developed a friendly relationship with in those first awful months after the Cardiff Bombing. Constable Marion Chang smiled in weary recognition. The smile widened into an appreciative grin as she leaned against the wing mirror and noticed his casual clothing. "That's a new look."
"Date night," Ianto replied coolly. "Or at least it would have been if this hadn't come up." It wasn't his habit to flaunt, but Chang had made her interest in him plain. And she hadn't been overly discouraged when he had made it known that there was already someone else in the picture.
She looked a little smug over his ruined plans, but concealed it quickly. "Hang on, I'll check the log." She ducked back into her car, and returned with an address scrawled into her notepad. "There you go." She handed him the scrap of paper. "Stay clear of the Bogey Man."
"The what?" Ianto asked, not sure he had heard her correctly.
"That's what they're calling it," Chang replied. "'Cause whoever is doing this has got to be something out of a nightmare."
The Hunt: Part Two