Torchwood One Calling.
Torchwood One Calling.
A/N: I do not have any rights or ownership of Doctor Who, Torchwood, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any affiliated characters. They are owned by other, richer people. I only have rights to this particular idea. I also am not fluent in Italian, so any mistakes in wording or such like are all my fault.
I thought about including this in the Unrevealed World series, but it didn't want to fit there. So, it's a standalone. Hope it works! Should be between 6-8 chapters.
As usual for my stories, anything between [ and ] are non-English.
July 8, 2006, Underneath Cardiff.bzzz, bzzz, bzzz
The woman present sighed, and snagged the phone. "Hello, Torchwood three. Suzie speaking."
"That is incorrect procedure. This is Torchwood One Actual, calling to speak to Torchwood Three Actual."
Suzie frowned at the phone for a minute. "Uh, this is Suzie, who actually is at Torchwood three." Yes, she knew proper procedure, but she also took some enjoyment (ok, a lot) of yanking the chains of the overly officious asses at Torchwood One.
"Agh! Look, this is director Hartman. I need to speak to Jack."
"Just a moment." Suzie covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Jack! It's Torchwood One on the line! Director wants to talk to you!" She set the phone down on the table, and went back to the latest piece of alien tech she was trying to decipher. It looked like a gun, but she knew better than to assume it was.
A few seconds later, Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood three for about 6 years now, strode into the room. His handsome features swept the room, then he swept up the phone and answered with a suave "This is Jack, Yvonne, my lovely lady, how are you?"
"Torchwood Three Actual, this is Torchwood One Actual. You are needed to personally go on a mission for us."
"How long do I have to get the team ready?" Jack's voice went serious immediately. Owen and Suzy looked up, curious what was going to happen.
"Not your team, just you. You have been requested, personally and by name, by an ally of ours. Or I think it is, anyways. The request came from a branch of the Vatican that deals with some of the similar things to us. And, they requested you to be there in 4 days, for a, and I quote 'Vitally important to the past and future meeting', unquote."
"Well, that's not cryptic at all, is it?"
"It doesn't matter. We're trying to get some ins with this group, have been for 50 years, and this time they asked for us. So, you are going, and whatever you do, Don't Screw This Up! We need this alliance."
"Gotcha. So, Rome, in 4 days? I'll be there."
"Good. They should have a car waiting for you there. Torchwood One Actual, out." The phone clicked to a hungup sound.
"And goodbye to you, too." Jack told the empty phone. He turned to his small team. "Looks like it's just me, this time. I'm requested, personally, for some higher-up, alliance strategy meeting in Rome. So, you know what to do, Suzie, you're in charge of course. Try not to mess up." He headed for the door.
***July 11, 2006, Fiumicino, Aeroporti di Roma.
Jack got his luggage from the carousel, and prepared to find his way. He had on his distinctive World War 2 Greatcoat, despite the heat, so it shouldn't be hard for the driver to find him. He hadn't seen his name, Torchwood's, or any variation on it on any of the signs being held up for arriving passengers. For him, nothing.Capitano Jack Harkness al banco del Servizio Clienti. Capitano Jack Harkness al banco del Servizio Clienti.
Now, Jack didn't know more than a few words of Italian, but he did know his name. So, servie client, looking for servie client- there! He headed to the desk area, and hoped someone there spoke one of the 31 languages he did know (okay, 21 were non-human, but . . . ).
"Hello! I'm Captain Jack Harkness. Does anyone here speak English?"
"But of course. We are an international Airport. You have ID?"
Jack fished out his passport, deciding not to reveal one of his more official IDs for something this simple.
"There is a message for you, signor. Ah, here. You are to take a taxi to this address, where you will be met."
"Thank you so much for your...service." Jack smiled at the helpful man, who smiled back, but only in the way of all customer relation's people, before turning to some paperwork on his desk. Ah, well, he hadn't expected anything to come of it, but he always liked to keep his hand in.
Jack got out at the address, and looked around, after claiming his bags from the boot of the taxi. It was a plaza, but that was hardly unique in Rome. Hardly. There was the fountain, the four statues, the very old buildings around him. What there was not, was a person waiting for him.
Jack took a quick look around again, seeing if he had missed them. Nope, noone, just the very old buildings, three statues, fount -
Three statues? What? Wait, that old story, the one bedtime story without pictures, what was it? Something about statues . . .
He turned around, and found the fourth statue right in his face, just a few yards away. He blinked, and it seemed a bit closer. It looked the same, hands covering it's face, wings, some sort of angel figure. Of course, in Rome, this hardly made it unique. Was this a joke, or was he actually encountering one of those creatures?
That's when he had the thought. If one was right here, and he was looking at it, what about the other three? He turned quickly to the fountain, saw the statues still there, and realized his mistake. He had taken his eyes off the fourth. The one he was sure was one of the Sad Statues. He realized when he felt something grab his shoulder, and the world twisted around him.