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Chapter 7

“So where is this not so secret organization located,” Mac asked as they reached the outskirts of Cardiff. He was driving Methos’ SUV and Joe was in the passenger seat, leaving the older Immortal to sprawl on the backseat.

“No clue,” Methos replied, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen Jack at work. Haven’t seen him at all in almost ten years, though I’ve kept tabs.”

“So what? We just ask directions?” Mac demanded, sounding a little perturbed.

“Eyes front, MacLeod,” Joe scolded, gesturing to the road. “Some of us will actually stay dead.”

“Don’t annoy the Watcher, Mac,” Methos began, and then stopped when a shiver went through him. “Did you feel that?” he asked his partner, who was nodding.

“It felt like a Quickening but not quite,” the Highlander admitted. “It’s close, but...”

“Turn on the radio,” Methos ordered Joe. “Make sure it’s tuned to channel 599.”

“You want to listen to talk radio, now?” the Watcher demanded, but did as he was asked.

“I’ve rigged it to pick up the police bands,” the ancient replied, ignoring MacLeod’s incredulous look. “It comes in handy if I’m avoiding getting between two of us.” He leant forward, listening closely to the chatter from the Cardiff Police. “There’s something going on at St. Teilo’s,” he noted, and then tensed when he heard the dispatcher mention ‘Torchwood’. “That’s where we need to be,” he told Mac, grabbing his PDA and calling up the directions on the built-in GPS.

Methos navigated as Mac steered the SUV through the unfamiliar streets. The closer they got to their destination, the stronger the Quickening-like feeling became. It was making their skin tingle and their hair stand on end, though Joe claimed not to feel anything.

As they approached the old hospital, Methos saw something. “There,” he said, point to a black SUV with the word ‘Torchwood’ emblazoned on the side.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Mac sighed, rolling his eyes. “A secret organization with a custom, vanity SUV?”

“Jack is not one for subtle,” Methos admitted with a shrug. “Park where we can see it. We don’t want to go blundering into something until we know what’s going on. We’ll wait for them to show up.”

Once Mac found a parking space within sight of the Torchwood vehicle, they settled in to wait.


Jack had noticed the SUV that followed them from the old hospital almost immediately, but with the imminent danger of the Rift fracturing, the best he’d been able to do was alert Ianto. Once the danger was past, Tosh was in Owen’s suddenly protective hands, and Jack had sent Gwen home, he found Ianto monitoring the Plass on the CCTV. “Anything?” he asked.

“Three subjects – male,” Ianto reported, calling up an image. “It looks like they followed us to the Plass, but can’t quite figure out where we went.”

“Identification?” the Captain inquired, leaning in and letting his hand brush Ianto’s back.

“One of them is definitely our hacker, Dr. Adam Michaels – or as you’ve told me, Methos,” Ianto told him, calling up an image of one of the men. “One of the other’s appears to be Duncan MacLeod, also known as the Highlander. The third man is listed in the home office database as Joseph Dawson, late of Seacouver and Paris. He’s a former United States Marine who has owned a series of nightclubs in recent years. His most recent acquisition is The Blues, a club in London. Beyond that, his file is flagged by Torchwood.” He looked up at Jack. “He’s a Watcher.”

“What the hell has that old fool gotten himself into now?” Jack wondered, rubbing his forehead. “Watchers and Immortals do not consort with each other.”

“Consort?” Ianto asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think we need to update your vocabulary with your wardrobe.”

“Very funny,” the Captain snarled. “Besides, with Methos about I’m going to look positively modern.” He sighed tiredly. “Okay, I’d rather start dealing with him alone, but sending you home is pointless, isn’t it?”

“If you order me to go, I will,” Ianto replied honestly, meeting Jack’s gaze directly. “You said you don’t think he’d hurt any of us, but I know better than to trust him or anyone like him. Still, that’s five millennium of history, Jack. I’d like a chance to at least talk to him.”

“He’s really just a guy,” Jack insisted, knowing it wasn’t actually true. Methos had a timeless quality about him, much like Ianto did. Beside them both, Jack felt out of step. He’d told Ianto he didn’t know where he belonged anymore. That was what made him different from people like Methos and Ianto – they adapted to the world around them as it changed. Jack kept trying to force the world around him to change to fit him and getting hurt when it resisted. “Okay, then. Ready this place for visitors,” he decided, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll bring them in via the scenic route.”

“Standard protocol?” Ianto asked, knowing that both Immortals and the Watcher would likely be armed.

“I don’t know that they’ll give up their swords,” Jack replied thoughtfully. “Just follow my lead,” he suggested as he moved towards the lift.

“With pleasure as always,” Ianto replied with a leer, causing Jack to laugh as the Lift ascended to the Plass.

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November 2010

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