TWENTY-EIGHT
Jack’s Webley went off, deafeningly loud in the narrow mews.
He was flanked by Toshiko and Owen. Both of them had side-arms aimed, circling, hunting for targets. Jack held up the black tile. Its surface danced with lights.
‘Know what this is? Anyone? Anyone?’ Jack called out.
James sank to the ground at their feet, panting.
‘Jack?’ he gasped. ‘Jack? They’re right behind me’
‘It’s OK.’ Jack told him. Jack kept the tile held up high.
‘Come on. Are you a coward? I’m just a guy with an old gun and few friends. You afraid of that? I don’t think so. I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you take down a Serial G with your bare hands. You’re a proper killing machine. Nothing like me, I’m a p-ssycat. You could take me, pop, just like that. So stop being coy. Damn well show yourself.’
‘Oh crap,’ Owen breathed.
Smoky grey shapes prowled forwards into the mews from the shadows. A pair of them. They were there and they weren’t there, like subliminal messages or peripheral images. Grey thorns rippled and swirled, fading in and out of real-time.
‘OK,’ said Toshiko, swallowing, ‘two of them?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Jack replied quietly. ‘One would be enough to kill us. Two, what’s the difference? We can only be so dead.’
‘I love it when you’re jolly,’ said Toshiko.
Jack waggled the tile. ‘You’re busy,’ he called out to the grey shapes. ‘I realise that. Busy and intent on your purpose. That’s fine. We won’t get in your way. Hell, we couldn’t if we wanted to. Just tell me something. Do you know what this is?’
Yes, Jack Harkness.
Jack winced. The words had passed through him like a knife. He forced up a smile. ‘Great. So, are you going to tell me about it?’
The two grey things in the limits of the shadows swished and bristled their thorny backs.
‘Here’s an idea,’ said Jack. ‘Look me in the eye. Look me in the eye, you sons of bitches.’
The grey things growled. One moved forward, its thorny greyness pouring off it like folds of dirty smoke.
It re-formed as its invested self melted away. It became a lean, blond man wearing a black suit. It stepped towards Jack.
‘You got a name?’ Jack asked.
‘Yes,’ said Mr Dine.