Torchwood 1938: Let Us Build Us A City

[The Meddler]

Robert eyed the German coolly. He was an amateur, at least when it came to making threats. He had stepped closer than he needed. If he could just think of a way to distract the man...

"Oh trust me, mein Herr. You don't need that gun to get me to cooperate." She said softly, as if the man and her were sharing a private conversation. Her tongue darted over the corner of her lower lip for a split moment, but enough for the man to see.

The man's eyes flicked to Celia distracted by her words and by the quick motion of her tongue over her lips. The barrel of the Luger wavered, just for an instant.

In that instant, Robert sprang. His left shoulder caught the gunman in the solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs as they both fell. Robert, a veteran of countless close-quarters fights, twisted the man as they hit the ground, dragging him over and around by the throat to use him as a human shield against the German at the truck. He grabbed the fallen Luger as the other German brought up a submachine gun, and squeezed off four shots.

Two went wide - one shattering the windshield and the other blasting a hole through the hood. But the other two caught the man in the chest, dropping him.

Robert jammed the hot muzzle of the Luger against the man's skull. "Right, then," he snarled into the man's ear. "I was in such a good mood, and you had to go and spoil it. So now you're going to tell me what is going on or I'll blow your brains out right here."

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

The man didn't stand a chance when Robert, a taller and broader Scotsman came down upon him, wrestling him to the ground and quick enough to turn him over to use as a human shield. She opened the glove compartment of the car, knowing Robert well enough to be a paranoid man when it came to his safety. She smiled when she found a revolver there.

Yet as she got out of the car, her black pristine heels cracking the dirt road beneath them she pursed her lips at the sight. Robert had already shot them all. Well, he was known for being efficient. Very efficient, that's why he was hired in the first place.

Revolved cocked and in hand she took her sunglasses off, taking up the scene around them.

"Right, then," he snarled into the man's ear. "I was in such a good mood, and you had to go and spoil it. So now you're going to tell me what is going on or I'll blow your brains out right here."

"Actually, he will first shoot your kneecaps, then your scrotum followed by your navel and by the time he gets to your actual brains you'll be begging him to do it. So I'd suggest you'd spill it, mein Herr. Scotsman tend to be savages when it comes to warfare." She said with a bored tone, keeping her eyes on their surrounding, making sure nothing snuck up on them.

[The Meddler]

Whatever else the German might have been, he was not a brave man. With the muzzle burning the skin of his cheek, and the threat of death (and painful death at that), he proved willing to talk.

"The Doctor," he whimpered, "We came for the Doctor..."

"Why?" Robert growled, grinding the barrel against his face.

"I... I don't know! Something he knows. We were ordered to turn back any intruders."

"How many went for the Doctor?"

"A dozen men!"

Robert glanced up at Celia. "Anything you want to ask him?"

---

Rendering a man unconscious by hitting him is far more difficult than the talkies and the radio programs would have you believe. You are far more likely to beat a man into brain damage or death. So Robert didn't bother. Instead, he tightened his arm around the man's neck until he passed out from lack of blood to the brain, tied him up with belts recovered from the dead men, and tossed him in the back of the truck.

"Right," he said, pulling a leather bundle out of the car's boot. "That's a dozen men, probably armed, probably unwilling to let us extradite Doctor Frobenius."

He shrugged out of his jacket, and shrugged into a shoulder holster he took from the bundle.

"Now, the sensible thing to do might be to let them take him. After all, we're outnumbered six to one."

A blued .45 automatic went into the shoulder holster. Then he clipped a knife to his belt.

"On the other hand, I rather like the Doctor." He smiled. "And I'm also not in a mood to see my first failure on a job for the Institute."

He pulled his coat back on, and slipped a pair of brass knuckles into a pocket. Then he grinned. "So. What say we go on up there and be a little irrational?"

(OOC: Feel free to take us up to the house, or even in. Oh, and question the German more, if you want.)

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

The whimpering of the man was pathetic really, and she barely spared him a glance. When Robert asked if she wanted to continue interrogating him she just replied with an airy "No, not really" before she heard Robert choke off the man's blood supply, the man gagging for air. About a minute later the German fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"Sometimes, I don't get you Robert. You murdered the other four without a second thought, yet you let the coward live." Still, she gave Robert a smile.

"Right," he said, pulling a leather bundle out of the car's boot. "That's a dozen men, probably armed, probably unwilling to let us extradite Doctor Frobenius."

He shrugged out of his jacket, and shrugged into a shoulder holster he took from the bundle.

"Now, the sensible thing to do might be to let them take him. After all, we're outnumbered six to one."

"Yes, but in our field of work, sensible is usually not the best option, as you well know by now. If we were all sensible Torchwood wouldn't even exist."

"On the other hand, I rather like the Doctor." He smiled. "And I'm also not in a mood to see my first failure on a job for the Institute."

He pulled his coat back on, and slipped a pair of brass knuckles into a pocket. Then he grinned. "So. What say we go on up there and be a little irrational?"

In the meantime, Celia had already walked up to the truck, gun poised and ready to fire, checking if everyone was really taken out.

A happy feminine squeal (one that would more regularly come from women who had gotten an expensive diamond necklace from her lover) came from her when she looked better in the truck, putting her heel on the side of the truck to haul herself up so she could look better into the truck.

"Honey, look what I've got!"

She emerged from the truck with a Tommygun in her hands, a big grin on her face that mirrored Roberts own.

"I like your thoughts of being irrational Robert, specially when I have this!"

The way she held the gun showed she was certainly not new to these type of machine guns. Celia was trained in heavy arms, along with hand to hand combat. Something very unsuitable for a Lady in these times.

Well, she had never been much of a Lady that way.

[The Meddler]

"Sometimes, I don't get you Robert. You murdered the other four without a second thought, yet you let the coward live." Still, she gave Robert a smile.

He shrugged. "Killing in self-defense has always come easily to me, although I'm not actually sure what that says about me. But killing a man in cold blood?" He stared at the unconscious man. "I've never really developed the stomach for it."

---

She actually squealed in delight, which earned a curious look from him. "Honey, look what I've got!"

She emerged from the truck with a Tommygun in her hands, a big grin on her face that mirrored Roberts own. "I like your thoughts of being irrational Robert, specially when I have this!"

He lifted an eyebrow. "That's... impressive," he managed. "Although I wonder why they'd use an American weapon, instead of an MP34 or one of the new MP35s?"

He mulled that over for a minute, enjoying the spectacle of Celia posing like a movie gangster with the submachine gun. "I get it," he decided. "They're trying to make it look like it isn't something official - assuming it is. The Luger's a pretty solid handgun, if you like 9mm, but you don't get a lot of MP34s and 35s outside the Wehrmacht. But you can buy a Thompson out of the Sears & Roebuck catalog."

A pause. "So we're either up against Nazis, or we're up against eclectic mercenaries that all happen to be German."

Another pause. "They got any more of those?"

---

In the end, he'd decided against the chopper. He'd never really developed a taste for automatic weapons - they wasted ammunition, really - and as a result hadn't developed a lot of skill with them. No, better to stick with the weapons you know.

They'd left the car by the truck, concerned that it would make too much noise, and covered the last quarter mile on foot. There wasn't much in the way of cover, a fact that had made his skin crawl the whole distance, but they were quiet. And, at her suggestion, they had also made a wide semicircle to approach the house from the side.

Something about the way she'd said it made sounded like she was having one of her 'premonitions'. But he wasn't going to argue the point. It made too much sense.

So now they stood to either side of the large French windows that led into the Doctor's sitting room. A quick glance had revealed two bored men, one smoking and the other examining the bottle of Scotch, and both with their backs to the window. Light shone at the base of the door leading into his study.

"Two of them," he whispered. "You ready?"

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

Celia rolled her eyes a his technical story of which gun would be best to use. When it came to these subjects she would rather feel what she had in her hands instead of worrying about it's specs. And truth to be told, guns brought out the worst in her and that's why she preferred machine guns. Even though she wasn't a small woman, she liked the way people just made a run for it at only the sight of a gun.

"There is also a good chance that these are just backup weapons. They've been fully loaded yet I see no sign of recent firing."

The last quarter of a mile on foot was something she would have usually voted against, seeing as her heels were highly impractical on a dirt road, but eventually she just took them off and walked on barefoot. She would need her balance operating the Thompson anyway.

Again, that feeling came over her and she stopped Robert by the sleeve, noting that they should round to the house to approach from the side instead of going to the front door. Half way through she seemed right, the front door was guarded by two men. Silently, they went on.

Eventually, they ended up by the large French doors that led straight into the sitting room. Staying in the shades, she could see two men standing there. The hair stood up on her neck. Something was seriously wrong and she couldn't shake it off.

"Two of them," he whispered. "You ready?"

"I'm having a bad feeling about it Robert, but let's do this." She whispered back.

[The Meddler]

"I'm having a bad feeling about it Robert, but let's do this." She whispered back.

He glanced at her, then into the room, and back to her. "I hate it when you say thing like that. You know that, right?"

Quietly, he worked the action back on his pistol. Then drawing a deep breath, he dove through the window. The automatic roared, spewing lead and fire, and the two men hit the floor at the same time he did. He rolled right, bringing the automatic around to cover the hall door.

As he did, the door burst open. "Was ist..?" the first man through shouted, bringing his weapon up.

Robert fired wild, three more bullets blasting holes through the door and gouging craters out of the stucco walls. Two more men entered the room, ducking and flinching as the gun hammered, but otherwise unharmed.

There was a staccato chattering from the window, and the three men did an odd little dance before dropping to the floor.

Robert picked himself up off the floor. "Beauty, brains, and talent," he said, offering her a hand through the window. "Celia, you are a remarkable woman."

Then he turned serious again. "I think we can assume that they know we're here. Cover the hall - I'll check the study."

He crossed the room, stepping over a corpse (and avoiding the pool of blood surrounding it) and pausing next to the office door. Gripping the pistol with both hands, he kicked the door in.

There, tied to his chair with wires, slumped the figure of Doctor Frobenius. He was badly bruised and covered with blood, but his head lifted a little as the door slammed open. "Ah, Robert," he said weakly, "I... I tried... not to... to tell.. them..."

Robert lept over the desk and knelt beside him, checking the wires before working at them. "Tell them what, Doctor?"

"I... tried..."

"I know," he said, soothingly. "I know. And you must have been tough. We'll get you a doctor..."

The Doctor shook his head. "Too... late... I fear." His head lolled, but he rallied back. "Ah... Celia... don't... don't think... badly... of me.... I tried..."

"Nobody thinks badly of you," Robert said, wincing as blood flowed from where the wires had bit into the man's skin. "You did your best. And we'll get you help, soon."

From where he knelt behind the Doctor, he caught Celia's eye and shook his head sadly.

"They... they took... the scepter." The Doctor swallowed hard. "They... they plan... to... awaken... the power... of Atlantis."

His head slumped again, and it was with an obvious act of will that he continued. "Notes... my safe... my wife's... birthday..."

The Doctor's eyes closed. "Ah... Anna... I see... you..." He fell silent, then limp.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

Her accuracy was scaringly accurate with the machine gun, so as soon as the French doors opened and Robert ducked down she had already shot the first two to hell. Her steps unheard as she had left behind her shoes a while back.

Another man entered the room, looking to know what all the commotion was about. Fool. Robert had already gunned him down before he could even get his own weapon up.

Robert picked himself up off the floor. "Beauty, brains, and talent," he said, offering her a hand through the window. "Celia, you are a remarkable woman."

"I'm just a maniac with a gun, nothing too special." She said with a calm smile and took his hand, stepping over the threshold.

Then he turned serious again. "I think we can assume that they know we're here. Cover the hall - I'll check the study."

She nodded and held the gun ready for fire again and slid across the hallways. On her way, she found another two men by the drawing room, they too were dead before they could even get to their weapons. Barrel still smoking she had a last look, closing her eyes for a moment to feel if she could find anyone near. But no, she probably took the last out with these two. Lowering the gun she went after Robert, finding him in the study.

She paled at the sight of the Doctor.

The Doctor shook his head. "Too... late... I fear." His head lolled, but he rallied back. "Ah... Celia... don't... don't think... badly... of me.... I tried..."

"Nobody thinks badly of you," Robert said, wincing as blood flowed from where the wires had bit into the man's skin. "You did your best. And we'll get you help, soon."

From where he knelt behind the Doctor, he caught Celia's eye and shook his head sadly.

She immediately went over to the Doctors side, taking his hand in hers. Her green eyes were cast in worry as she checked his wounds, soon after anger boiling up in her. How could they do this to a person, this cruelty. The blood was everywhere. Her eyes met Roberts, they both knew he was dying.

"They... they took... the scepter." The Doctor swallowed hard. "They... they plan... to... awaken... the power... of Atlantis."

His head slumped again, and it was with an obvious act of will that he continued. "Notes... my safe... my wife's... birthday..."

The Doctor's eyes closed. "Ah... Anna... I see... you..." He fell silent, then limp.

She closed her eyes, her hand clenching around the Doctor's for a moment before she took a shuddered breath and moved her hand up to close the Doctors eyes with a single hand movement. She looked at Robert then, her other hand still on the Doctors sleeve.

"He was saying something about a safe.. most likely his wife's birthday is the entry code. What.. we can't just leave him here.." She whispered the final part, looking down at the still Doctor, now seeming peacefully asleep.

They had to get out of here and out of this country, and fast.

[The Meddler]

Robert was clearly distracted. "Awaken the power of Atlantis..?" he repeated.

"He was saying something about a safe.. most likely his wife's birthday is the entry code. What.. we can't just leave him here.." She whispered the final part, looking down at the still Doctor, now seeming peacefully asleep.

He stood up, nodding. "You're right, but we need to find that safe first." He looked around the room. "Find out what is in those notes." He looked again. "The scepter's gone."

A thought struck him, and he swore briefly. "Can you look for the safe? I want to check something else." With that, he stepped back into the sitting room and began to methodically undress the closest of the dead men.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

Celia merely rose a well shaped brow at him suddenly beginning to undress one of the dead guys, but she decided not to question him and went to look for the safe he had told her to do so.

Told her to do so

She smirked, a week ago that would have enraged her, she was supposed his boss, not the other way around. But at the moment they had more important matters on hand then their ego's so she went straight for the safe without questioning him. It took a quick look in his files to see what his wife's birthday was and quickly enough she had it open. Inside was a stack of papers, some money and a gun. Putting all in a knapsack that she found somewhere next to the safe she came back to Robert.. doing God knows what.

"I got it, there was about three thousand dollars on cash in there as well, we're going to need that to get out of the country fast. We can't risk taking the oriental express again. Oh and I've got another gun." She handed it to Robert.

She looked him up and down.

"And what are you doing?"

[The Meddler]

"I got it, there was about three thousand dollars on cash in there as well, we're going to need that to get out of the country fast. We can't risk taking the oriental express again. Oh and I've got another gun." She handed it to Robert.

"Three thousand?" he whistled softly, still intent on getting the shirt off the dead man. "The Doctor was doing pretty well for himself, apparently."

He tossed the shirt across the room, absently took the gun Celia offered, and began examining the man's arms and chest.

She looked him up and down. "And what are you doing?"

"Looking for something I hope I find..." he said absently, checking the inside of the dead man's right arm. "Ah, hell."

He lifted the arm and turned it so she could see. Tattooed on the inside of the arm were twin stylized lightning bolts and a stylized capital F. He swore, softly but profanely, as he dropped the arm. "Schutzstaffel. Geheimnisgruppe-Schutzstaffel."

He stood up. "The Nazi Torchwood. This is bad, Celia. And I think..."

Outside, the sound of a vehicle pulling away could be heard. "I think we'd better stop them!"

Gripping his pistol, he raced across the room and jumped through the French window.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

She saw the tattoo after he did, and oh she knew that tattoo well, despised it even. That group was the whole reason they had been sent on this assignment in the first place, be there first.

He stood up. "The Nazi Torchwood. This is bad, Celia. And I think..."

Outside, the sound of a vehicle pulling away could be heard. "I think we'd better stop them!"

She swore colourfully as they both dashed through the French door, seeing a vehicle ride off. Without a second thought she raised the Tommygun again and started emptying it's ammo at the vehicles back tires. No way they were going to rain on her mission.

[The Meddler]

The car slewed wildly as the Thompson opened up on it. Bullet holes stitched across the boot and kicked up puffs of dirt and gravel, but the tires remained stubbornly intact as they squealed and smoked on the driveway. It fishtailed twice, fighting for traction.

Robert sprinted towards the car, gun in hand but unable to shoot straight. Suddenly, he threw himself down and to the left as a muzzle protruded from a rear window and fire and lead roared out. He rolled desperately as the bullets plowed a trench through the dirt towards him, then cried out in pain as he rolled into a runoff ditch.

The car jackrabbited forward, hurtling itself down the lane. As it did, Robert came up on one knee. Ignoring the blood running down his right arm, he clutched the .45 in both hands and fired twice, missing both times.

He looked towards the house. "The roads aren't that good," he yelled. "If we run cross-country, we might be able to catch them by the truck."

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

She was on Roberts hell, stopping sometimes to fire a few bullets at the van. She screamed in rage as she saw it open fire straight at Robert and in her rage she fired the gun single handedly as she ran, not caring of the backlash of the gun putting quite a bit of pain on her arm joints. She too, missed. But at the moment she was more worried about Robert who she saw got hit by one of the bullets from the van.

Both her and Robert were covered in dirt, the sleek look from before completely gone, they both more looked like savages the way they looked now. Somewhere along the way her hair had come undone, dust covered curls cascading down her back.

She watched as Robert again fired two more shots at the van, but it was already too far away. She wondered how he could even hold that gun properly with the amount of blood running down his arm.

He looked towards the house. "The roads aren't that good," he yelled. "If we run cross-country, we might be able to catch them by the truck."

"No" She said firmly. "This mission is postphoned. We need more backup before we continue on, you're more important to Torchwood then that sceptre is."

She walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You're more important to me then that sceptre is, too. I need to have a look at your wound before it gets infected. Come on, let's get back inside. I'm afraid with the Doctors death we need to inform the authorities this time."

[The Meddler]

"No" She said firmly. "This mission is postphoned. We need more backup before we continue on, you're more important to Torchwood then that sceptre is."

Robert's eyes were wild with adrenaline. "What? The SS-G has an alien artifact, and you're saying..."

She walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You're more important to me then that sceptre is, too. I need to have a look at your wound before it gets infected. Come on, let's get back inside. I'm afraid with the Doctors death we need to inform the authorities this time."

He wanted to argue - that much was plain on his face and from his stance. But after a second or two, he relaxed a little and nodded. "Yeah," he acknowledged, "Yeah, you're right. Let's get my arm cleaned up and looked at."

He jammed his pistol back into its shoulder holster, wincing as the action stretched his wounded arm. "Have I ever mentioned how irritating you are when you're right?"

---

The wound was both better and worse than they had both feared.

Robert sat in the Doctor's kitchen with his coat and shirt off, injured right arm half lying on, half dangling in the sink. Most of the contents of a medicine cabinet sat on the counter by the sink. He squeezed water from a dishcloth, and mopped more blood away from the wound.

The Doctor's cook would probably have been distraught at the mess, except that they had found his body in the hall outside the kitchen. He'd been shot several times at point blank range.

It wasn't a gunshot wound, and it was relatively shallow. That was the good news. The bad news was that it had apparently been caused by a sharp stone or a bit of broken wood. Instead of leaving a reasonably straight wound, it was ragged and jagged and torn. He was pretty sure he could see a few splinters in the injury as well.

"I don't think," he said, trying to keep his mind of the pain, "that we should notify the authorities."

He dropped the cloth, feeling a little lightheaded. "Not right away, anyway. We're British, we're in a country that's all but allied with Germany, and we have a half-dozen dead Germans all over the place."

He managed a half-smile. "Rotting in an Italian jail will make it difficult to get that scepter back from SS-G."

Pain twisted his face as the tear throbbed. "So, anyway. How are you with a needle and thread?"