Risk Assessment (16 page)

He handed round the little boxes.

‘Any questions?’

A hand shot up. Ianto ignored it. ‘Right – off you go. Drive carefully. You are all that’s between that monster and Ikea.’

The policemen shuffled away, and Ianto exhaled.

‘Do you think it’s going to work?’ Agnes asked him.

Ianto shrugged. ‘In theory, but I just don’t. . . you know. . . There’s something about that creature.’

‘We will tame it,’ said Agnes. ‘You have to believe that.’

Ianto watched the police cars swerve around the creature and then out into the road. A distant pinging sounded. ‘Well, if we fail, I’m sure the Americans will invade.’

The lift snapped into place with a gust of cold air, and Rhys found himself standing in front of the Millennium Centre, its entrance blocked by four trucks, their drivers stood smoking and muttering in front of them.

‘Hi guys!’ he said, and they suddenly noticed him striding towards them carrying a bulging Lidl bag.

They mumbled hello. ‘What’s in the bag, Rhys?’ one of them chuckled.

Rhys dropped it at their feet. ‘Lads,’ he said. ‘How do you fancy a spot of Black Ops?’

Jack bounded up as the trucks rattled off. ‘Happy?’ he asked.

‘Double overtime, hundred quid bonus, course they’re happy,’ said Rhys. ‘They’re not going to be in any danger, are they?’

Jack reached into his pockets, peeled off a roll of banknotes and slipped them into a crumpled brown envelope which he handed to Rhys. He shrugged. ‘To be frank, humanity’s got a few days left at most. So I wouldn’t worry too much – but they should be fine.’

‘OK,’ said Rhys uncertainly. ‘Where were you?’

‘Belt and braces – much more fun to undo both,’ Jack smiled. ‘I was picking up something from the medical bay. Let’s get back to Mr Blobby. Now, where’s my transport?’

‘Ah,’ said Rhys.

The Vam looked at the police cars with their force wall. It stretched out to it, gently extruding feelers, working out the size and shape and distance of it. And, all the time, it let its pace match that of the cars.

It let them think that it was contained.

Gwen put down the binoculars. ‘It’s going OK,’ she breathed.

Agnes shook her head. ‘I am not so sure.’

As each car rolled back along the road it went ping. . . ping. . . ping.

When the Vam roared out and poured over the force shield it did so in about ten seconds. It simply flowed around it, regrouping and isolating the police cars, gently crumpling the force field as it went.

Peep. Peep. Peep.

The policemen threw open the doors of their cars and ran for their lives.

Agnes shut her eyes and, very quietly, said, ‘Damn.’

‘What’s the next move?’ asked Gwen.

Agnes stepped out onto the road. ‘Well,’ she said, slowly, ‘Contact Captain Jack Harkness. I am going to go and talk to that creature.’

The Vam watched Agnes approach. Her step was measured, her appearance neat. She raised her loudhailer.

‘Good day,’ she said. ‘I should like to speak with you.’

The Vam stopped moving.

Agnes stepped closer.

The Vam quivered gently in the breeze. It appeared to be listening.

Agnes breathed deeply and got ready to speak.

A seagull settled on the Vam and vanished. Agnes watched its alarmed struggles briefly, and then raised her loudhailer, keeping her voice controlled and calm.

‘I should like to speak with you,’ she repeated. ‘I believe it would be best.’

The Vam shivered in the wind.

‘One last chance,’ said Agnes. ‘I wish only a good outcome for everyone. Others will come after me who are not so well intentioned.’

She lowered the loudhailer and folded her arms.

And then the Vam ate her.

XIII

APPEARANCE AND

DISAPPEARANCE

In which the plans of a steel soldier are thwarted, the Vam learns of its true nature, and Mrs Cooper is betrayed by an egg

Gwen gasped.

‘Not good, not good,’ said Ianto.

‘Jack,’ said Gwen, and frantically dialled his number. ‘We really, really need you.’

It was hot at the top of the crane. The cabin spun as the arm swung round erratically. Agnes lay semi-conscious on the cabin floor. The steel soldier turned at the sound of the door opening.

Battered, bleeding, but still going, Captain Jack Harkness hoisted himself into the cabin.

The steel soldier stared at him with his metal face. ‘Jack!’ he cried, his voice slurred. ‘Enough!’

Jack steadied himself with difficulty. ‘No, Sergeant. I’m not giving up till I stop you.’

Agnes dragged herself off the floor. ‘Harkness is like a bad penny,’ she said thickly. She managed the trace of a smile.

The steel soldier grabbed Agnes and held her between the two of them, his gun at her temples. ‘Another step, Captain, and I destroy her.’

Agnes’s eyes widened, and she looked at Jack in horror.

‘Have you met her?’ drawled Jack.

Agnes stared.

‘I mean, you know, she looks pretty enough in an older sister way, but when she opens her mouth it’s all pickled eggs and Baden Powell.’ He shrugged. ‘Shoot away, tin man.’

The steel soldier made a noise a bit like a laugh, and its artificial voice box rattled. ‘You spend so much time fighting each other. Is it any wonder it’s been so easy to bring you down? Especially when you answer to this bluestocking.’

‘Yeah, well,’ said Jack. ‘Torchwood has a history of over-promoting zealous women. We were founded by one, after all.’

‘The history of Torchwood does not concern me any more.’ The steel solder took a step closer to Jack. ‘I merely wish to end it. Now.’

‘Well,’ said Jack. ‘Not now, really. I mean, we’ve still got a couple of minutes. To talk.’

‘What about?’

‘Oh, I dunno. Metal limbs. World domination.’

Agnes tore her mouth free of the steel soldier’s grasp. ‘For God’s sake, Harkness, do something!’

‘And she’s back in the room.’ Jack shrugged. ‘We won’t get a word in edgeways now.’

The steel soldier grinned a tin smile and turned to look at Agnes. ‘I could just kill her.’

Jack nodded. ‘Probably easiest.’

As the site of an impending apocalypse, the toy shop car park had seen a remarkable number of things, not the least of which was a battered yellow van pulling up and, miraculously, Captain Jack Harkness climbing out of it. With as much dignity as he could manage, he walked over to Gwen and Ianto.

‘Gwen! Looking commanding! Ianto! Good enough to eat! Now where’s Agnes?’ He rubbed his hands together as though spoiling for a fight.

Gwen laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder, more for her own support than for his. ‘Agnes. . .’ she began.

‘. . .  was also good enough to eat,’ completed Ianto. ‘Sadly.’

‘Oh,’ said Jack. He looked over at the Vam. ‘Good luck with digesting that!’ he called.

‘Jack!’ cried Gwen.

‘What?’ Jack said, mock innocently. ‘She’s a tough old bird. Now, let’s put the poor thing out of its misery.’

‘How can you?’ shouted Gwen. ‘She. . .’

‘Made a bad call.’ Jack shrugged. ‘Happens to us all.’

He strode off.

The steel soldier tightened his grip on the trigger, pressing a mark the size of a shilling into Agnes’s temple.

‘Of course,’ said Agnes quietly, ‘once you kill me, there will be nothing to stop Jack from killing you.’

The steel soldier laughed. ‘Torchwood brought me back from the dead. But this is not a life.’

‘You have value to us,’ said Agnes. ‘And that is important.’

‘Cold, isn’t she?’ sighed Jack. ‘Comes in handy when winning people over.’

‘Clearly,’ muttered the steel soldier.

‘Not married, either,’ added Jack. ‘I think she scares men off. You should put in a bid. She could do worse.’

Agnes glared at him.

Behind them the London skyline turned gently, and the crane jerked to a shuddering halt.

‘We’ve arrived,’ said the steel soldier.

‘Your plan, please?’ snapped Agnes.

‘Simple,’ replied the steel soldier. ‘There is an anomaly above London. Over the East India Docks to be precise. It is currently sealed, but I am going to use this crane to activate it. That is no ordinary wrecking ball.’

‘It wouldn’t be,’ sighed Jack.

‘Probably contains a negative static electrical charge,’ snapped Agnes.

The wrecking ball, swinging like a giant hypnotic pendulum began to crackle and sparkle with red and green light. It started to jump and jiggle up and down on its chain, as though being jerked by an invisible giant.

The steel soldier looked at her and chuckled. ‘Science is clearly not your strong point, but if it makes you happy then yes. That ball is opening a rift. Unimaginable power will be mine for the taking, undreamt-of forces to unleash, and London will be destroyed. That will be my revenge on Torchwood for what they did to me. What have you to say to that?’

There was the tiniest of pauses. Agnes looked at Jack.

‘Oh, Sir Jasper,’ she said firmly.

Jack groaned. ‘No, not that, please.’

Agnes smiled and sang in a voice used to bellowing hymns, ‘Oh, Sir Jasper, do not touch me!’

‘What?’ asked the steel soldier.

The entire crane shuddered, buffeted by a sudden wind.

‘What passes in Victorian society for a smutty ditty. You subtract a word with each line,’ whispered Jack confidentially, shifting his balance carefully before singing back, ‘Oh, Sir Jasper, do not touch!’

‘I don’t understand,’ shouted the steel soldier, gripping Agnes’s shoulder.

Wincing with pain, she sang out, ‘Oh, Sir Jasper, do-oo not!’

Jack took a step to the right, the steel soldier jerking Agnes around as a shield. ‘And here’s where it gets fruity.’ He called back, singing, ‘Oh, Sir Jasper, do!’

Agnes kicked the steel soldier in the shin, bellowing, ‘Oh! Sir Jasper!’

‘Oh! Sir!’ gasped Jack as the steel soldier punched him.

‘Ohhhhhh!’ trilled Agnes, ducking.

Jack rugby-tackled the steel soldier. A gun fired.

The steel soldier staggered towards the open door of the cabin, teetering on the brink. Jack lay sprawled on the floor.

Agnes straightened up, applying herself to the controls, throwing the cabin into a spin. ‘Must. . . move. . . that ball away. . .’

‘Too late,’ grunted the steel soldier, trying to steady himself in the doorway.

‘Nonsense,’ snapped Agnes. ‘Torchwood can easily contain a semi-active causal breach fifty storeys above the Docks. This is far from Doomsday.’

The steel soldier regained his balance, aiming his gun again. ‘You really think so? You mad, self-deluding co—’

Suddenly up, Jack lunged. The two of them sailed out of the cabin.

Agnes concentrated on moving the crane, watching as the wrecking ball stopped glowing and reverted to dead iron. Once she was satisfied, she turned back to the cabin door and peered down.

Jack was gripping the edge of the doorframe with one hand, his face twisted with effort.

Holding on to Jack’s ankle was the steel soldier, the iron bones of his hand cutting into the flesh.

Far down below them was a London pavement.

‘And what do you propose I do about this, Captain Harkness?’ asked Agnes wearily.

Jack smiled with effort. ‘Get me up, get this clockwork soldier off my ankle.’

The steel soldier threw another arm up, seizing Jack’s thigh with vice-like strength.

Agnes shrugged. ‘Bad call,’ she tutted, bringing her foot firmly down on Jack’s hand. ‘Happens to us all.’

Ianto caught up with Jack. He was standing watching the Vam slide down the road.

‘Jack,’ he said.

Jack nodded but didn’t turn. ‘Ianto?’

‘I think, I really think that. . .’

The Vam oozed its way over traffic cones, twisting the crash barrier like paper.