Reggo
Blue Crack Addict
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2007
- Messages
- 26,992
Remember this old thing I posted ages and ages ago? Well, I finally have another chapter for you. If you're not familiar with it, go on and click the link. I'll wait.
...
Back? Good. On with it, then.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, this is all a load of bollocks.
-----
LONDON ENGLAND
28 November 1992 11:45 AM
By the time the plane landed in London, Adam had spent the past 22 hours recovering from his hangover and watching the television his captors had provided for him. As the day wore on, his death became less a great tragedy and more just a piece of show business news. Another rock star had drunk himself to death.
When the door opened, Adam was promptly handcuffed and taken into custody by three MI6 agents and a special operative.
"Mr Bond, I presume?" Adam smirked at the dashing young man in the tailored suit and earpiece. The operative said nothing, just made sure he walked in step with Adam as he was escorted to an armoured car.
Adam sat down facing the operative. "It is Bond, isn't it? M's new pet? Double-Oh and all that?" The operative cleared his throat. "Hmm. You know, I'm an agent, too. You're allowed to speak to me." The operative smirked and Adam said nothing more.
When they arrived at MI6, Adam was escorted by the agents to an interrogation room while the special operative separated from the group. Adam sat with his hands behind his back, staring at a clock and counting the seconds until a senior agent came in the room, carrying a stack of paper four inches high.
"Honestly, there's been some mistake. I'm not Jason Robards. I never was. You have me confused with someone else," Adam said.
"We have a file here on you that goes back to the sixties. We traced your prints. We know who you are," the senior agent said. Adam recognized him as a former superior. Agent Baines.
"I was born in 1960. March of 1960. How could I be the man you're looking for?" Adam asked.
"You're telling me that this isn't you?" Adam was shown a picture of himself skulking around Mod London as an adult, with a New Year's 1968 banner in the background.
Adam bit his lip. "No? Doesn't it seem odd to you that this photo is twenty years old, yet I haven't aged?"
"Facial recognition software doesn't lie, sir."
"Your facial recognition software is in it's infancy, and that picture is grainy and over twenty years old. No, that is not me. I am not Jason Robards and I am now making a formal request to talk to M. Thank you," Adam sat back in his chair, ready to refuse to say anything more when Baines sighed.
"If you're not Jason Robards, and we both know you're not Adam Clayton, then who are you?"
"Tyler Durden," Adam said in his best American accent, which came out closer to Australian.
Baines sighed again and picked up a telephone. "Get me everything on a Tyler Durden," then he hung up.
Just then, the door to the interrogation room opened and a face familiar to Adam walked in. Adam tried to hide his smile.
"I am ordering the immediate release of this man," the man said in his American accent. He was wearing what looked like a World War II captain's uniform and held out a piece of paper.
"Jack," Adam whispered.
Jack slid the paper onto the table between the agent and Adam and Adam smirked to himself as he saw the ink for the UNIT insignia appear on the psychic paper in the reflection of Baines's reading glasses.
"'By order of General Jack Harkness, MI6 is to release the prisoner known as Jason Robards to Torchwood immediately," the agent read aloud. Adam bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing. Baines suddenly stood up straight and saluted, "Sir."
"At ease, soldier," Jack saluted back. "Now release him and I'll be on my way." The agent nodded, walked behind Adam's chair and unlocked the handcuffs. Adam stood up and took Jack's hand as Jack programmed the vortex manipulator on his wrist. The handcuffs had gotten tangled in the back slats of the chair and by the time the agent looked up, Jack, Adam, and the paper ordering Adam's release was gone.
"What the devil?" the agent opened the door and an investigator ran up to him.
"We couldn't find anything on a Tyler Durden in America or Australia. Where did Robards go?" The investigator asked as he looked over the senior agent's shoulder.
"Seal the building. They can't have gotten all the way out by now. I want every camera searching for them. And get me everything on the Torchwood Institute and Jack Harkness," the senior agent said.
"Yes, sir," the investigator said as he ran off with his instructions.
Adam and Jack appeared in Cardiff Bay above the space-time rift. "General Jack Harkness?" Adam smirked. "That's laying it on a bit thick, isn't it?"
"How else would you have gotten out of MI6? If they had found out who you are, they would have killed you on the spot," Jack said. "Ready for the second half of the trip?"
“No blue box this time?” Jack shook his head. "I suppose," Adam sighed. He put his hand on Jack's forearm. Jack pushed a button on his vortex manipulator and they disappeared again.
...
Back? Good. On with it, then.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, this is all a load of bollocks.
-----
LONDON ENGLAND
28 November 1992 11:45 AM
By the time the plane landed in London, Adam had spent the past 22 hours recovering from his hangover and watching the television his captors had provided for him. As the day wore on, his death became less a great tragedy and more just a piece of show business news. Another rock star had drunk himself to death.
When the door opened, Adam was promptly handcuffed and taken into custody by three MI6 agents and a special operative.
"Mr Bond, I presume?" Adam smirked at the dashing young man in the tailored suit and earpiece. The operative said nothing, just made sure he walked in step with Adam as he was escorted to an armoured car.
Adam sat down facing the operative. "It is Bond, isn't it? M's new pet? Double-Oh and all that?" The operative cleared his throat. "Hmm. You know, I'm an agent, too. You're allowed to speak to me." The operative smirked and Adam said nothing more.
When they arrived at MI6, Adam was escorted by the agents to an interrogation room while the special operative separated from the group. Adam sat with his hands behind his back, staring at a clock and counting the seconds until a senior agent came in the room, carrying a stack of paper four inches high.
"Honestly, there's been some mistake. I'm not Jason Robards. I never was. You have me confused with someone else," Adam said.
"We have a file here on you that goes back to the sixties. We traced your prints. We know who you are," the senior agent said. Adam recognized him as a former superior. Agent Baines.
"I was born in 1960. March of 1960. How could I be the man you're looking for?" Adam asked.
"You're telling me that this isn't you?" Adam was shown a picture of himself skulking around Mod London as an adult, with a New Year's 1968 banner in the background.
Adam bit his lip. "No? Doesn't it seem odd to you that this photo is twenty years old, yet I haven't aged?"
"Facial recognition software doesn't lie, sir."
"Your facial recognition software is in it's infancy, and that picture is grainy and over twenty years old. No, that is not me. I am not Jason Robards and I am now making a formal request to talk to M. Thank you," Adam sat back in his chair, ready to refuse to say anything more when Baines sighed.
"If you're not Jason Robards, and we both know you're not Adam Clayton, then who are you?"
"Tyler Durden," Adam said in his best American accent, which came out closer to Australian.
Baines sighed again and picked up a telephone. "Get me everything on a Tyler Durden," then he hung up.
Just then, the door to the interrogation room opened and a face familiar to Adam walked in. Adam tried to hide his smile.
"I am ordering the immediate release of this man," the man said in his American accent. He was wearing what looked like a World War II captain's uniform and held out a piece of paper.
"Jack," Adam whispered.
Jack slid the paper onto the table between the agent and Adam and Adam smirked to himself as he saw the ink for the UNIT insignia appear on the psychic paper in the reflection of Baines's reading glasses.
"'By order of General Jack Harkness, MI6 is to release the prisoner known as Jason Robards to Torchwood immediately," the agent read aloud. Adam bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing. Baines suddenly stood up straight and saluted, "Sir."
"At ease, soldier," Jack saluted back. "Now release him and I'll be on my way." The agent nodded, walked behind Adam's chair and unlocked the handcuffs. Adam stood up and took Jack's hand as Jack programmed the vortex manipulator on his wrist. The handcuffs had gotten tangled in the back slats of the chair and by the time the agent looked up, Jack, Adam, and the paper ordering Adam's release was gone.
"What the devil?" the agent opened the door and an investigator ran up to him.
"We couldn't find anything on a Tyler Durden in America or Australia. Where did Robards go?" The investigator asked as he looked over the senior agent's shoulder.
"Seal the building. They can't have gotten all the way out by now. I want every camera searching for them. And get me everything on the Torchwood Institute and Jack Harkness," the senior agent said.
"Yes, sir," the investigator said as he ran off with his instructions.
Adam and Jack appeared in Cardiff Bay above the space-time rift. "General Jack Harkness?" Adam smirked. "That's laying it on a bit thick, isn't it?"
"How else would you have gotten out of MI6? If they had found out who you are, they would have killed you on the spot," Jack said. "Ready for the second half of the trip?"
“No blue box this time?” Jack shook his head. "I suppose," Adam sighed. He put his hand on Jack's forearm. Jack pushed a button on his vortex manipulator and they disappeared again.
