The Queen's Magicians: The Concealed Ones (2/4)

[merucha]

Title: The Queen's Magicians: The Concealed Ones (2/4)
Author: Emma
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, the Doctor, others
Rating: Starts PG, but hey, it’s got Jack and Ianto in it
Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Summary: An apocalyptic cult is trying to hasten the end of the world but when Torchwood steps in, it finds much more than it expected. This takes the place of Dead Man Walking

Part one is here

“So you're telling me,” Ianto asked Calev Neumann as Jack maneuvered the SUV into the diminutive parking space in front of a mid-terrace house on Herbert Street, “that there is someone going around killing Jewish men of excellent reputation just in case one of them is one of these Tzadikim Nistarim?”

“It would seem so,” Neumann sighed with relief as Jack turned off the engine. “Does he always drive like that?”

“That?” Ianto made a scoffing noise. “That was the Jack equivalent of a little old lady in the family Vauxall.”

Neumann burst into laughter. Jack pouted. “I'm right here, people. It's not gossip about me if I'm right here.”

“Sorry,” Ianto said absently as he stared at the plain stucco facade. To his eyes it looked exactly like every other second-from-the-end house on the street, narrow and low, with windows on either side of the door with smaller ones right above them. Three-quarter-sized, Ianto's father called them, and Ianto would have had claustrophobic fits if he had to live in one, but to his Sense, it was a warm hearth full of laughter, tears, arguments, reconciliations, everything that made for a good family life. And it was human to its core.

“No magic here,” he said to Neumann. “Just a place where several generations have lived. A good place.”

“I had the same feeling,” Neumann said as he pulled the key out of one of the pockets of the messenger bag he carried. “But I wanted a second opinion from an expert.”

The inside of the little house was neat as the proverbial pin. The ground floor was an open space with a tiny galley kitchen separated from the rest by an american-style breakfast bar. There were plastic daisies in a white vase on the counter, framed cross-stitch bouquets on the walls, and crocheted antimacassars on the backs of the armchairs and the sofa near the miniature fireplace. The place looked frozen in time.

“He was a widower,” he said to Neumann.

“It shows, doesn't it?” Neumann looked around. “Sophia's been dead for these twenty years and Sam still lived with her, day in and day out.”

Jack studied the crammed bookcase next to the stairs. “Tell us about Sam.”

“Samuel Levine, seventy-nine, professor of romance languages at Cardiff University until his retirement. Tutor, confidant, and informal arbitrator of disputes to all and sundry, Jew and Gentile, for most of his life. A real mensch, Sam.”

“A righteous man,” Jack said, picking up a heavy leather-bound book. “And a learned one. Prime candidate for Nistarimhood, if I can put it that way.”

“Yeah.” Neumann agreed.

“Where was he found?” Ianto asked.

“Upstairs.”

They followed him up a short, narrow flight of stairs to a tiny landing with two doors side by side. Neumann opened the left one and ushered them into a spotlessly clean bedroom with a double bed, a large armoire opposite it and a dressing table under the window.

“Bathroom is that way,” He pointed to a door next to the armoire. “It's shared with the other bedroom, which, believe it or not, is smaller than this one. Mrs. Bernstein, his next door neighbour, hadn't seem him in a while, so she let herself in with the key he had given her. She found him, poor soul. He had been neatly laid out on the bed. Throat cut. All the blood had seeped into the bed clothes. Nothing was disturbed so it seems he didn't put up a fight. I left everything as she found it until you got here.”

Ianto examined the large stain. There was something odd about it, but he couldn't pinpoint the problem. This was the sort of situation where he and Owen made a fantastic team. He would Sense the problem and Owen would run his tests and figure out what was wrong. Dammit, he missed his partner.

Jack touched his shoulder. “Ianto?”

“There's something strange about the blood, but I can't figure out what. I should have brought Owen's case.”

Neumann came to stand next to them. “What do you need?”

“An ultraviolet light.”

Neumann reached into his bag and pulled out something that looked like a flashlight. “I don't carry a proper one, but this might help.”

Ianto switched the flashlight on and swept it over the mattress. Nothing happened at first, but then, slowly, the stain began to fluoresce a deep silver. A small oval appeared as if floating in the air above it; inside it rode a crowned man holding a bow over his head. Flashes of silver lightning ran around the oval, here and there flaring into tiny suns.

Jack whistled. “Well, I'll be damned.”

“Pretty much impossible,” Neumann said absently, frowning as he stared at the oval. “It looks like a military badge of some sort.” He looked at Jack. “Do you recognize it?”

“Not as a military badge, no. I recognize the symbol, of course.”

“It's familiar,” Ianto said. “But I can't place it.”

“It's the first horseman of the Apocalypse from the Revelations of St. John.” Jack said. “And I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals, and I heard, as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying, Come and see. And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer.”

Neumann snorted. “Poor John of Patmos would be horrified if he knew what has come from his visions.”

Ianto pulled out his phone. “Tosh? We need to check all the usual sites for any new apocalyptic groups.” He described the image floating above the blood-soaked mattress. “Also look for the old sun symbol with a sword through it.... Yes... all right.” He listened for a while, then turned to the other two men. “Tosh found a similar pattern in the Jewish Quarters in Granada and St. Petersburg, and in Brooklyn, New York. Four, two and five deaths respectively.”

Something bleak came into Neumann's eyes. He straightened up, pushing his shoulders back. For a brief moment Ianto could Sense a vast icy anger barely held under control. “We'll need to coordinate with other agencies, then.”

“Tosh has already started on that,” Ianto said. “Of course, you will have to contact your counterparts in those cities and clear us.”

“Yes.” Neumann seemed to relax slightly. “Let's go back to my office. You can go over the files while I talk to them.” He shook his head. “We won't get any physical evidence from the earlier cases. People would have cleaned up already.”

“We'll get more with the next one,” Jack said grimly. “They're not going to stop until they've done what they set out to do.”

“And since it won't work, they'll double down on the killings,” Neumann finished Jack's thought for him. “Apocalyptic cults are not known for their logical reasoning.”

Ianto raised en eyebrow. “You don't believe in the nistarim, then?”

“Oh, I believe in them, all right,” Neumann said. “I also know how dangerous it is to accept ancient legends verbatim.”

They headed out. Neumann locked the door, placing his hand over the lock afterward. Ianto felt a burst of energy and was sure that casual thieves would never even consider the easy pickings inside. He looked at Jack, who mouthed later as he slid into the passenger seat, offering Ianto the keys.

Neumann grinned at the sight of Ianto behind the wheel and was obviously about to make a comment when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the display screen. His mouth tightened.

“Yes?... Now?.... Very well.” He made a face. “Is that necessary?... Very well.” He nearly snarled as he put away the phone. “That was one of my informants. He wants to meet.”

“Are you sure it is safe?” Ianto asked. “We can't ignore the possibility that you could also be a target.”

Newmann seemed startled by the idea, then shook his head. “I'm in no danger, but...” He took a deep breath. “He wants to speak to you too.”

“News travels fast in your circles,” Jack said in his gentlest tones.

Newmann winced. “There are things that are impossible to hide, Jack. Especially in my circles.” He got into the back seat of the SUV. “Which aren't, how shall I put it, exactly what you think they are.”

“That was obvious from the beginning,” Ianto murmured. “You hide well, Mr. Neumann, but we aren't exactly novices.”

“I suppose not.” He rested his head back and closed his eyes. “We're supposed to meet him at Mermaid Quay. Signor Valentino's?”

Ianto and Jack traded traded a look. There weren't any gestures to give them away; the look was all they needed. It was a silent drive. Neumann seemed to have fallen asleep, but neither of them wanted to take any chances. Their new ally was not exactly what he seemed, and it was best not to take the chance to let any of their own secrets slip out.

Even though it was nearly lunch time, it wasn't difficult to find a parking space. As soon as Ianto had turned off the ignition, Neumann opened his eyes. He gave them both an ironic look.

“I guess we get to walk across the street in the sun.”

Neither Jack or Ianto answered. Obviously Neumann already knew a little too much about Torchwood. They followed him to the shopping centre and up the stairs to the open-air section of the restaurant.

“There he is.” Neumann pointed.

Ianto saw a tow-headed man in jeans and a black t-shirt look in their direction. Even though his face was half-covered by aviator sunglasses, he seemed familiar. Then the man removed the glasses and Ianto's stomach threatened to turn inside out. He felt his lover withdraw into the icy calm that was Captain Jack Harkness, and he reached for his own power.

As they reached the man who was not a man at all, Neumann repositioned himself so as to cover Jack and Ianto with his own body.

“No tricks,” he said.

“None,” the demon said. “Hello, little brother. Won't you introduce me?”