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Hit the Road Jack Part 7
The Doctor lunged at Marty, tackling him to the ground as Jack took out his gun and fired at the men. They took cover and the Doctor scrambled back to his feet, throwing a pot at a window, smashing it, while Marty and Jack crawled behind a table.
"Come on!" The Doctor yelled, but had to duck behind a counter as the men reared up and fired two new clips of bullets at them.
Jack reloaded, splinters of wood flying everywhere in the kitchen. The machine gun fire went silent for a moment.
"Go!" Jack yelled, pushing Marty and opening fire himself.
Marty jumped out the broken window, landing hard on the mud outside. A second later the Doctor landed beside him, then Jack tumbled out, holding a bloody arm.
"You're hurt!" The Doctor went to help him, but Jack pulled away.
Two men appeared in the alley, Marty could see their machineguns glint from the light of the whorehouse.
"RUN!" Someone yelled, and Marty did as the men opened fired.
Marty didn't run far. The gunfire seemed to quiet, as though it were moving away from him, and despite the adrenaline urging him on, he forced himself to stop and look back.
He was alone.
Maybe he had gone right and they had gone left. It didn't matter. He was stricken with panic for a moment, but he pushed it away. He was done running. He wasn't going to abandon anyone else tonight – not ever.
He began back, walking slowly this time, watching every shadow as though another round of bullets might jump out at him.
Finally a second alley connected with his and, pressed close against the wall, he peered out into the brighter road. It was a road, he realized. It must have been the road the whorehouse was on. Streetlights dotted the abandoned road, and Marty took a deep breath.
Just as he was about to take a step out, something grabbed him from behind, a strong hand covered his mouth as another wrapped around him. Marty's eyes went wide with fear, until he heard a soft "shhh" in his ear.
The cartel wouldn't have shushed him. A robot wouldn't have shushed him. Was it the Doctor? He wanted to turn, to see who had hold of him, when he heard the car coming down the road. He allowed the man to pull him back into the shadows as the car drove past, eventually going silent.
"You've got an entire army after you, boy," the voice, an American, spoke, and Marty did not recognize it.
The hands released him and Marty swiveled around, holding his fists up, wary of any strangers – especially ones who grab at you in dark alleys.
The man was tall, with a strong square jaw and shirt blonde hair cut short. He was thin, but wiry with muscles. He dressed like a soldier, one from the 18th century as far as Marty could tell, a red coat with brass buttons.
"Who the hell are you?"
"A curious party," he said calmly. He looked at Marty with cool blue eyes.
"Yeah? You just happen to be wandering around in a city crawling with cartel?"
"Why not? You are," he smiled. "And they're not the cartel."
"How can you tell?"
"If they were the cartel, you would be dead. They're just hired guns. Their employers didn't want to hire the cartel, too many questions. These men are all expendable, untrained nobodies – but of course, that means they're not terribly good at their jobs."
"Sorry, who the hell are you?"
"I'm a friend."
He leaned forward. "Did I say I was your friend?"
Behind the man, a gun cocked, and Marty saw Captain Jack step out of the shadows, his gun trained on the back of the man's head.
"Get away from him Marty."
The man's smile only got wider. "Jack, would it kill you to just say hello?" He turned around and the two locked eyes.
"Friend of yours?" Marty asked.
"Once," Jack said after a pause.
"Hey. I thought I had explained everything to you."
"Shut up, friend."
"Will someone tell me who he is?"
"Captain John Hart," the man turned his head to look at Marty. "Jack and I go way back." He gave Jack a look that seemed to suggest they were more than just "friends."
"Then why is he pointing a gun at your head?"
"Because," Jack took a step closer. "It's too much of a coincidence that he should show up here. He isn't the sort of man who accidentally walks into these situations."
"I came for the time rift," John explained.
"So did we."
"Well," John looked at Jack, his eyes narrowing. "That is a coincidence, but quite a lucky one."
"Why is that?"
"Because you're not just here for the time rift, are you? You're here because of Morton Robotics, and they just so happen to be good acquaintances of mine. You're going to want to put that gun away, because if you want any chance in hell of getting into that building, you'll need me alive."
To Be Continued in Episode Nine: And Doncha Come Back!
(Marty really got turned into a ragdoll in these last two chapters with Jack and the Doctor pushing and pulling him around, but it's all for the sake of growth. Now, Captain John Hart only showed up in two or three episodes of Torchwood, but I think he made a strong enough impression to garner a guest appearance in a FanFic, lol. Yes, truly the highest of all podiums for a character of sci-fi to reach. Obviously – I hope – this is a two-part episode. So alas, after all that time I am still making you wait for the conclusion, but hopefully I'll get it done in less than three months. Oh hell, I PROMISE it will be out in less than three months.)