Torchwood Fic: Fallout, Part Eight (CoE Spoilers!!)

[merucha]

Title: Fallout, Part Eight
Author: Emma
Characters: A whole bunch of folk.
Rating: Starts PG, but hey, it’s got Jack 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?
Author’s Note: This is Series 3 Fix-it Fic. I dreamed this. It embarrasses me, because, dammit, Series 3 didn’t happen!
Author's Note: Just to make me feel better, I'm going to try an experiment. Short scenes, little narrative, mostly dialog. Let's see what happens.

Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here; Part Four is here; Part Five is here; Part Six is here; Part Seven is here

            “You’re thinking like a military man.”

 

            “And?”

 

            John sighed theatrically. “Ifan is too big an asset of these people to let go. Even if they can’t use him as originally planned, his DNA would be useful in speeding up the process for the next clone. How much would you bet against the proposition that they’re already looking for him?”

 

            “I don’t take sucker bets, John.”

 

            “Didn’t think you would. So, let’s review our options. We can’t ask the government for help; half is are probably in the Lazarus Corporation’s pocket and the other half is too pissed off at Torchwood Three because we’ve made them look like fools a few times.”

 

            The Doctor seemed eager to get into the game. “We can’t ask UNIT. Some of their current highest ranking officers were up in the Valiant during that year and there’s a good possibility that they could be in on it.”

 

             John nodded. “And we certainly can’t ask the idiots at Torchwood London. So that leaves us here. I’m willing to take your money on a bet that Lazarus’s labs are heavily protected.”

 

            “No bet. So…”

 

            “So the best way to get in would be for them to let us in.” 

 

            “And we do that how?”

 

            “Jack, start thinking like a conman.” John grinned nastily. “Look around you. Everyone in here is an outstanding citizen. Former police officers. Immortal hero. The Protector of the Earth. And then there’s me.”

 

            “You know, that has possibilities...” Jack grinned back equally nastily. “How do you want to go about it?”

 

            “They probably have us under surveillance. A little loud bitching and moaning to my favorite barkeeps about how fed up I am… Joining Torchwood just so I could have another chance with my former lover, convince him I’ve changed, and when he shows up it’s only because he has a chance with a goddamn duplicate of his old flame.” John laughed. “I can do it in my sleep. They’ll be waiving money and revenge under my nose in three days.”

 

            “And what happens when they do?” Ifan asked blandly.

 

            “I will  tell them that I can deliver not only you but also a great deal of information that could be useful to them.” He pointed at his wrist strap. “But only personally or no dice. I don’t trust underlings.”

 

            “And once you’re in…”

 

            “You’re in. If we move fast enough, they won’t know what hit them.”

 

            “You better get started, then. The rest of us have planning to do.”

 

             As he turned towards the cog door, John caught the Doctor studying him; the look in the Time Lord’s face told John exactly what the Doctor would not put into words.  After a moment, he nodded, accepting the unspoken sympathy. Then, whistling, he headed out.