Tempered by Love

Chapter 7 Surprises

 Pete Tyler leaned forward, elbows propped on the desk with the phone to his ear, listening to the posh accented voice on the other end rail on about immigration policy and controlling vermin. A week spent arguing with distributors and London's most notorious Tory MP, left him in his office trying to ignore the thumping behind his right eye. And people wanted to know why a man with my money votes Labour, he thought as he formulated a coherent and diplomatic response to an idiot. "Mr Fells, I have reviewed your plan, sir, and quite frankly, it's neither practical nor humane. I am not rounding up innocent souls trying to survive in a hostile environment and stick them in a walled off part of the slums just to make xenophobes like you happy."

 "I beg your pardon! First of all, Tyler, they are not people. You've got them pretending they're human," the man replied. "It's bad enough we have to worry about foreigners sneaking into the country, over-staying their Visas,  taking benefits from proper citizens, but now we have to deal with vermin from out there somewhere."

 "I realise, sir, that you are anti-immigration of any sort, but these immigrants are stranded here because of a couple of maniacs. There is nowhere we can deport them"

 "We have empty islands in the North Sea that will do quite well!"

 Pete squeezed his eyes tight forcing his voice to stay calm. "As I have said. Sir. They are in jobs suited to their training and they pay taxes. Three of them work in Torchwood's R&D department. I would like to remind you. Again, sir; their existence remains classified. That, sir, means their existence is top secret. Do not think you can discuss this with anyone outside the security council. Not even the Intelligence Task Force knows who I have hidden. There won't be any leaks to the press on this one."

 "Are you threatening me, Tyler?"

 "Absolutely not, sir. I never threaten. I am explaining to you that the security and control of every alien currently in the British Isles is strictly the purview of Torchwood, by act of Parliament. Not even the president, whoever he or she is, can overrule that control. And considering that it was Torchwood who, not once but three times saved this planet, I do not believe they will be repealing the act any time soon. No matter what asinine plots and plans that show up on either side of the aisle, it is Torchwood who continues to follow up on every sighting. It is Torchwood who liaisons with our European neighbours and the States, and lastly, it's us who pulled together the resources needed to solve our climate issues."

 "If you're talking about that scientist Barrow, he cost this nation and the States several billion dollars, and the weather is still screwed up. You keep those creatures out of my constituents' jobs or you will discover what I can do in parliament." 

 A dial tone replaced the nattering in Pete's ear. "You have a nice day too, you bloody plonker," Pete said, dropping the receiver back in its cradle. He scrubbed his hands across his face, his cheeks puffed with a harsh breath that came out more as a hiss. The digital clock on the desk clicked over to ten-o-six. He had exactly twenty-four minutes to walk across the compound to the next battle of the morning. His vice chairman of sales insisted they finish a deal to acquire Boissons Drinks in Belgium. The last thing Pete wanted was that little company, but he needed to expand and the buy-out would push Vitex further into Europe. 

 He'd been very good about avoiding a daytime slug since Rose had reamed him for drinking too much. It didn't help when Marcus had jumped on the proverbial band waggon at his physical. He really could slap the sot for his endless list of thou shall nots. No booze, no smoking, no bacon, no... and the list went on. Moments like this made following that damn list bloody hard. He pulled open the bottom desk drawer, glanced at the bottle of still hidden Scotch. Why not a yes, Pete; eat that steak and follow it up with a pint night, because you were a good boy, he thought, heaving a sigh of regret as he grabbed the aspirin bottle.