‘Hey!’ said Ianto, more sharply than he intended to. He softened his voice. ‘Hey. It’s not going to come to that. I’m going to take care of things.’
‘But if you can’t – promise me. Give me that much.’
Ianto took a long look at her. ‘If it comes to that, then I’ll do what needs to be done. But it won’t come to that.’
‘Thank you,’ said Gwen.
Ianto looked at Jack. Jack just shrugged, and said nothing. He couldn’t ask Ianto to kill him, because he couldn’t die.
‘If you can’t fix it,’ said Jack, ‘just put me somewhere. Freeze me. Won’t make a difference to me either way. Don’t waste your life on this. On me.’
Ianto put his hand over Jack’s mouth to shut him up. ‘You’re not giving the orders now. And I’ll do what I like. So, with all due respect, shut up.’
He removed his hand, and kissed him, quickly, keeping his expression optimistic. He looked at them both, holding on to their hands, gently. ‘I’ll stay with you until the virus takes over. Then I’ll go and sort this out. And then we’ll all go and get drunk. Deal?’
Gwen and Jack nodded, unable to speak now, growing ever more still. They were fading fast, slipping into the living death caused by the virus. Ianto held their hands, and waited, smiling, looking as if this was all just a tiny hiccup in their daily routine, something easily fixed.
Jack tried to stay focused on Ianto, his breathing getting slower.
Gwen stared straight ahead. The last thing she saw before the virus took her over completely, was the photo of Tosh and Owen on her desk.
And then, finally, they were both motionless, sitting silently on the sofa. Ianto checked their breathing – slow but steady. They were both now in the waking coma that the alien had promised.
Ianto made sure they were comfortable, and not in any danger of falling or choking. He gave them one last look, his confident expression vanishing, as he crumpled for a moment, wondering what the hell he was going to do.
And then he sprang into action.
Ianto checked the database for more details on the Kagawa Virus, but the files didn’t contain any more than the alien had already told them. He paced up and down, trying to think, and talking out loud to himself, occasionally directing comments at the motionless figures of Jack and Gwen.
‘OK, so Big Daddy tracks his missing kid, comes through the Rift to Earth, and sees what happened at the Happy Price. He realises his kid’s dead, decides it’s our fault, and spends the night doing research, finding out who we are, and figuring out how to get inside. So. There’s no reason why he’d have the virus with him already, he was just looking for his missing wife and son. Which means. . .’
He looked over at Gwen, snapping his fingers.
‘Good idea, Gwen. He must have bought it after he arrived. Which means he got it somewhere locally. He didn’t get it from us, we didn’t have any samples in the safe. So where would he have picked it up from? Hmm?’
He glanced at Jack, as if hearing something.
‘Yes! That’s right. We already know that someone has been selling alien tech on the black market recently, under the radar – it must be a local group. Obviously we don’t know for certain that Big Daddy got the virus from them, but it’s our best bet. So. . . how do I find them?’
He stared at Jack and Gwen, thinking.
‘If they’ve sold this virus to other people, there’ll be reports of the symptoms. People suddenly slipping into comas, waking comas. Well, it’s a start. Good work, you two.’
Jack and Gwen didn’t move. Ianto sighed. ‘Well, if I’m talking to you, then I’m not talking to myself, which makes it perfectly normal and not weird. . .’
He sat down at a computer, and started searching through police reports, hospital patient records, anything and everything. An hour later, he saw it. It wasn’t much, just a tiny reference in a hospital admission, someone falling into a waking coma, with no other symptoms. They were discharged when the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with them.
And there was an address.
Ianto hurried along the ninth floor of the block of flats, looking at the directions he’d hastily scribbled on a piece of paper. When he came to number 912, he rang the doorbell. It was opened by a hollow-eyed woman in her thirties.
‘Caitlin Hirschman?’ asked Ianto.
She nodded. ‘Who are you?’
Inside the flat, Ianto and Caitlin sat at the kitchen table, sipping at mugs of tea.
‘It was horrible,’ she said. ‘One day, he was just gone, like he’d been switched off. As if there was nothing inside, you know? But when I looked into his eyes, I could tell he was still in there, he was just trapped, stuck in his own head. At least if his mind had gone, it wouldn’t be as bad. But I knew he was feeling it, every moment.’
Ianto nodded. ‘When did it happen?’
‘Six months ago. I came home, he was on the sofa, I thought he was messing about. But he wasn’t. Doctors couldn’t find anything, what a waste of bloody time that was. I brought him home in the end. I said, if you can’t find anything, or do anything, then at least he can be at home, with someone who loves him, looking after him.’
Ianto glanced through the open kitchen door, to the living room. It was empty.
‘Where is he now?’
‘He died, a few weeks back.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It was suffocation, they said; must have swallowed his tongue or something.’
She looked away, unable to meet Ianto’s eye. He noticed this, but didn’t push it.
‘Did he know anyone who might have wanted to hurt him?’
Caitlin looked up sharply. ‘Why? You said you were with the police. What’s this all about?’
Ianto sighed. Time to come clean.
‘The same thing has happened to two people who are very important to me. I’m trying to save them. But they didn’t just come down with it. It was done to them. It’s a manufactured virus that doesn’t exist in the wild, and someone infected them with it. If your husband had the same thing, then it would have been deliberate. Somebody did it to him.’
Caitlin stared. ‘Somebody did it – deliberately? Why?’
‘I don’t know. Did he have any enemies? Rivals? Business partners?’
‘Business partners, yeah right. He was a schemer, my Joe. He’d buy and sell stuff, cheap crap, you know, the usual. Didn’t always go well. He did get warned off once, but we didn’t think any more of it. He was trying to sell electronics gear in some industrial estate, but this company told him to stop. It was their patch, apparently. Sounded well dodgy if you ask me. But that’s all. They wouldn’t have done this though, surely?’
‘I don’t know. Worth a look. Have you got their address?’
‘Yeah, in the spare room. Joe kept everything, all the receipts, travel tickets – drove me mad, I said, what do you need all that for, not like you’re doing it for the taxman or anything. He was funny like that, though. Never threw anything away.’
She started to cry softly, and Ianto waited patiently, not pushing, keeping his voice gentle. ‘Why don’t you tell me where to find it, and you can wait here and finish your tea?’
In the spare bedroom were several piles of folders, receipts, and boxes filled with all sorts of cheap electronic gadgets. Ianto went to work, finding the piece of paper he needed first, but having a look through the rest of the stuff just in case. He sifted through several boxes of junk, but then found one which was a bit more interesting.
In among the cheap radios and toys, was a small alien device. Ianto picked it up, recognising it, and checked that it was still working. The power was fairly low, but it came on. He pressed the right sequence of buttons, and a rough holographic copy of himself appeared, several feet to his left. He waved at himself, and quickly switched off the device, slipping it into his pocket.
He looked again at the sheet of paper that Caitlin had guided him to. The company name was Conlan & Co. Electro
nics.
At the front door, Caitlin stopped Ianto before he left.
‘Your friends,’ she said. ‘It’s definitely the same thing as my Joe?’
‘Looks like it,’ said Ianto.
‘Well then do yourself a favour. Do them a favour. Kill them. Just put them out of their misery.’
Ianto shook his head.
‘I’m not doing that, until I’ve exhausted every other option.’
‘Well, when you do. . . just kill them. Because believe me, they are in absolute agony. My Joe was, I could see it in his eyes.’
Ianto nodded. ‘He didn’t swallow his tongue, did he Caitlin?’
Caitlin just looked at him. And closed the door.
The industrial estate was filled with empty warehouses, and shuttered buildings covered with ‘To Let’ signs. Not very promising. Ianto wandered around, trying to get his bearings, wondering if industrial estates had light-bending qualities.
‘Unit A3, A3. . .’
There was a Unit A4, and a Unit A2, but no A3. Apart from a hand-lettered sign: ‘A3 relocated to C14’. Ianto sighed and retraced his steps.
Outside Unit C14, Ianto tried to look through a window, but the inside was painted over. Faint cracks of light leaked through – someone was in there. Ianto opened the door, and walked into a large reception area.
It was empty, apart from three sofas, and a small desk with a computer. Ianto coughed.
‘Hello? Shop?’
Behind the desk, a doorway led into the main warehouse. Ianto was just about to investigate, when a bored woman in her twenties came through. She shielded the doorway as she came in, so that Ianto couldn’t see past her into the warehouse.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes. You can. I’m here to buy some of your alien merchandise, please.’
The woman looked at him blankly. There was a flicker of reaction in her eyes, but she kept her face neutral. She glanced down at her computer screen, and turned it off.
‘We’re export only. Don’t do foreign.’
Ianto kept his voice level, but never broke eye contact, watching for her reaction. ‘Not foreign. Alien.’
‘Is this a joke?’
‘I never joke about alien merchandise. I’d like to buy some. So why don’t you tell whoever’s in charge to come and see me.’ He looked up at the security camera in the corner of the room, and took out the small alien device he had taken from the room in Caitlin’s flat. ‘Just so we’re all on the same page – I’m looking for stuff like this.’
He flicked the device on, projecting the holographic image of himself for a few seconds, then turned it off again.
‘Like I said. Alien merchandise. I haven’t got all day.’
The receptionist stared at him. The intercom crackled, and a voice came through: ‘It’s OK, Salina, I’ll be there in a sec. How about some coffee for me and my guest?’
Salina shrugged, and went to the coffee machine in the corner. Ianto beamed at her, and waited. Eventually, a tall, thin man came through the warehouse door. He smiled at Ianto, as if inspecting a laboratory specimen for dissection.
‘Hello. My name is Alix. With an I. How can I help you?’
Salina brought two mugs of coffee over, and put them down. She stood there, waiting. Alix glanced at her. ‘Thank you, that’ll be all.’
She muttered something to herself, and went back into the warehouse, shutting the door. Alix smiled. Ianto took a sip of the coffee, and winced. To say it wasn’t up to his standard would be like saying a light bulb emitted slightly less light and heat than the sun.
‘OK, Alix-with-an-I,’ said Ianto. ‘Let’s cut to the chase here. I need to buy the antidote for the Kagawa Virus.’
Alix opened his mouth to protest, but Ianto cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Save the denials, I haven’t got time. I know you’ve been supplying it, I know you used it on Joe Hirschman when he strayed into your territory, I know you’ve been selling alien equipment and weaponry to various gangs, thugs and other undesirables around the country. But right now, I don’t care about any of that. Nobody else knows, and I’m happy to leave it that way. I just need that antidote, and I need it now. Sell it to me, and you’ll never see me again, or anyone I work with, and you can carry on with your little business.’
Alix took all that in, and smiled. ‘Fine. Seeing as we’re cutting to the chase. I know you’re Torchwood. I sold the virus to a very angry man, a man who asked a lot of questions about you lot, so I have to assume, seeing as the other Torchwood kids are not here, that he used it on them. I have the antidote. But it’ll cost you.’
‘How much?’
‘Five hundred thousand.’
Ianto blinked. ‘Excuse me?’
‘It’s normally less than that, but I’m acutely aware that you’re desperate, so the price is adjusted accordingly. Supply and demand, you see. And I’ve heard stories about your resources, so I’m fairly confident that you can easily lay your hands on that sort of money. It’s enough to reward me for my time, but not so much that it’d raise alarm bells with your people.’
Ianto raised one eyebrow. ‘You gave him the virus, knowing he was going to attack us with it?’
‘Yes. Because I knew one or more of you would escape, and eventually track us down, and be willing to give us a lot of money for the antidote.’
‘We could have all died!’
‘I didn’t force him to attack you. I merely provided him with a weapon. My responsibility ended there. And look, here you are, alive and well, and with a marvellous, bulging bank account.’
‘You knew what the virus could do. And you let him loose with it.’
‘Yes, yes, I’m very, very naughty, and I feel simply terrible about it. Does that make you feel better? We can debate this for hours, but the simple fact of the matter is, if you give me five hundred thousand pounds, I’ll give you the antidote, and everybody will be happy. I know you can get the money.’
‘Of course I can get it. But it’ll take a few days.’
‘Then you should probably start working on it now. I’ll bet if you really try, you can have the money by this evening.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘Well then consider this. The longer you leave it, the less chance the antidote will work. In twenty-four hours, it will be all but impossible to cure, even with the antidote. So I suggest you stop wasting time talking to me, and run along to your paymasters.’
Ianto stepped forward, face like thunder. But immediately, two large men armed with guns stepped into the room, from inside the warehouse. Alix smiled. ‘Don’t embarrass us both, Mr Torchwood. I have more friends than you do. And they’re not as polite as me. Off you go.’
Ianto glared at Alix. ‘If I can’t save them—’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Alix, interrupting. ‘You’ll kill me, and so on, and so forth. Time is ticking away. Tick tock. Tick tock.’
Ianto left without another word.
‘I thought I said I didn’t want to hear from you lot ever again,’ said Swanson. ‘Or at least for two weeks. I thought I was quite clear about that.’
Ianto paced up and down next to the SUV, making faces into the phone. ‘I wouldn’t call unless it was urgent.’
‘It’s always urgent. But not for me. As usual, it’s just Team Bloody Torchwood getting involved in things that would have stayed perfectly fine if they’d just left well alone. And you want me to send out a unit, without a search warrant, to help you break into a legitimate business property and arrest a load of people without charge, so that you can steal something from them?’
‘Well when you put it like that, of course it sounds bad. But they’re bad people.’
‘Why?’
Ianto hesitated. ‘I can’t tell you why. You wouldn’t believe me.’
‘Try me.’
Ianto sighed. Made a decision.
‘You know what? There’s no point. I’d have to spend a good half an hour here arguing with you, trying to convin
ce you it was real, then I’d have to bring you to our Vaults to prove to you that I’m not insane, and by the time you grudgingly admitted I might be right about certain things, it’d be too late, and you’d still want proof that these people were up to something. And I don’t have that proof. I just have my word.’
There was a long pause as Swanson considered all this. But ultimately, she was a member of the police, and there were some lines she just couldn’t cross.
‘I’m sorry. But your word isn’t good enough. Especially if it means possibly ending my career.’
‘Fair enough. I’ll do it myself.’
‘I didn’t hear that.’
‘I know. But you’ll hear all about it by the morning.’
Ianto hung up before Swanson could say anything else.
He was out of options. Apart from the one, really dangerous option that might get him killed. Business as usual, then.
He got into the SUV, started it up, and sped off.
Ianto strode into the Hub, a man on a mission. He glanced over at Jack and Gwen as he passed, and gave them a cheerful wave.
‘Only me,’ he said. ‘Don’t get up.’
He went deep into the darkest recesses of the Hub, past the cells, past the vaults, past all the other storage areas, until he came to the small, tightly locked door labelled ‘Weapons’. He spun the submarine-style wheel, and quickly tapped at the keypad, entering the code that he wasn’t supposed to know.
Click! The door opened, and he walked into the large, dimly lit warehouse. He knew what he was looking for, and headed straight for one particular compartment. He took out a large, sinister-looking alien device which couldn’t have been more obviously a gun if it had had ‘THIS IS A GUN’ painted on it, in blood. Ianto switched it on. It whirred and hummed alarmingly, sounding like a nuclear reactor firing up.
‘Nice.’
He left the warehouse and locked the door again. He moved on to the armoury, and sorted through the various guns and knives, deciding which ones would be the most useful, which ones didn’t pack enough of a punch, which ones would slow him down. He packed several of them into a large rucksack, and secreted the rest in his clothing, making sure they didn’t stick out too obviously.
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