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nehswritesstuffs · 3 years

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The Thick of UNIT - Part LVI

...and so it begins...

Chapter Index - FFN - AO3

The polling places haven’t been closed for more than twelve hours and Kate has already gotten a summons... [Malcolm/Kate, a Malcolm Tucker working in UNIT AU]

A trip into Switzerland was more stressful than a lot of people would let on, Kate decided. For one: this particular instance was much more rushed than what any tourist would likely experience, let alone regular—though still frantic—people wasting the scenery and cosmopolitan culture of a Geneva outing on something as dull as business. She had gotten the call in the dead of night, waking up not only herself, but the rest of her family as well as they sat around the television set in the family room, passed out in their respective spots as they attempted to stay up and see the votes results as they started to come in. Malcolm had jolted completely upright from his spot using her lap as a pillow, Conall had fallen off the arm chair, and Fiona roused from being slumped over on the coffee table, napping nearly atop her laptop computer. Their stomachs dropped when they saw the caller ID: Geneva.

Fuck.

There was no time to vocalize any foul language, however—she had answered immediately. “Fuck, lov—!” Malcolm got her free hand covering his mouth—shut the fuck up.

“Stewart speaking.”

“I take it you’ve been watching the reports.” She had froze for just a tic too long. “Report to HQ at oh-nine-hundred hours. Local time.”

No introduction, no explanation, no anything; just orders.

Shit in a shovel—she had been summoned to UNIT’s Geneva HQ.

Thus started a panicked rush to get everything in place for her to head over to Switzerland for maybe one day, maybe four—who the fuck knew? She was bleary-eyed and completely knackered after no more additional sleep by the time Malcolm drove them back into the elevated carpark for the Mainframe before the sun rose, an email coming through on her mobile as they reached the roof.

“What the absolute hell is going on?” It was Bambera, and she did not have to be there in person to let it be known that she was livid.

A bit of attempting a slight bit of damage control later (because most people, yes, would understandably flip the fuck out if their boss arrived to work sixteen hours early after a potentially life-changing national vote), Kate stepped onto a plane, accompanied by a small detail. Malcolm had wanted to come along, be there for her when she needed to duck into a cupboard and get some frustration out, yet she forbade it—who else would she trust to run the show if she was detained for a week or more? Instead it was her son, along with Aparajita, an Osgood, Ji-Yu, and Dr. Shaw; with most of her departments and the Tripartite being represented, she was at least confident with the image she was presenting. Kate Stewart was taking this summons very seriously.

For two: there were not necessarily that many people that could go and say they were being dragged to Switzerland to be bollocked, of all things.

“I don’t like this, Mum,” Gordon frowned. He was in his dress kit, looking as though he was about ready to pass out in fear. UNIT Headquarters was positively swarming with soldiers, many armed to the teeth, making it clear that it was not just a bunch of international diplomats and scientists at-play. Ji-Yu and Osgood had wandered off in the crowd, leaving the four to linger by the lobby wall while waiting for them to catch up. “This is not sitting well.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Aparajita scowled. She was texting furiously on her mobile, trying to give direction to Shaw the Lesser from a distance so that the tit didn’t commit suicide-by-Tucker. “If this summons were any clearer, we would have been told to bring a belt or cane of our choosing with which to beat us.”

“It’s not that bad,” Gordon claimed. He looked at Kate, whose deadpan expression was all he needed. “It is that bad, isn’t it?”

“It’s very, very bad,” Dr. Shaw affirmed. “In my experience, it should be the grand retirements you get called to the central command for, not because some children got pissy over having the same passports as the French.” She leaned against the wall and shrugged as indifferently as possible. “We’re not here for cake and party crackers, that’s for certain.”

Stomach dropping, Kate could feel the stares of the other higher-ranking UNIT members wandering around, going about their business. It was likely that they were going to all reconvene later, after her admonishment for something that she had no control over whatsoever, and pick up the pieces that she was about to be forced to drop. All thirty-one other Mainframe Heads were likely off in a conference room somewhere, starting a betting pool over the what, when, where, and how of her eventual demise. Even amongst Old Guard, not many had as much riding on the meeting as she did… shit, even Gordon had a chance of escaping this alive, career intact after a transfer, but her…? Everything she ever was or would be depended on it.

“Sorry about that,” Ji-Yu said as she and Osgood approached the group again. “I saw one of my old classmates from uni and needed to introduce Osgood to him—whiz at quantum mechanics. He’s working over in Tanja at the moment; they're here to answer for the Referendum as well.”

“Something tells me that Tanja’s fate and ours are going to be two completely different things,” Kate reminded her. She then took a calming breath—they could do this. “Are we ready?”

“If I were any more ready, I’d’ve taken up nicotine patches in lieu of smoking,” Aparajita quipped. Kate rolled her eyes and began the walk over towards their designated bollocking-session. It was too early, too soon after the vote, and too knee-jerk a reaction, in her opinion. Let the chips finish falling before allowing the gulls to come over and raid the bounty.

The conference room they were ushered into was hushed and grim, a distinct difference from the last time Kate was there. The only other summons she had for this particular chamber, it was for her appointment to head Mainframe UK. Now… it was grim, with a distinct chill in the air that had been absent before. A collection of forty-three varying policy-makers and career soldiers were already there, preparing for the session in their tiered seating, some staring as the newcomers walked into the room. The group from Mainframe UK sat down at the tables opposite their jury and judges, prepared for the worst.

“Everyone seems so serious,” Kate said, her tone attempting to lighten the mood slightly. General Bambera, who was at the front of the group, frowned grimly.

“Everyone merely knows the implications that have been raised with the recent vote,” she replied. She glanced to her right, where a sour-faced man was shuffling through some papers. “Mister Secretary?”

“Brigadier-Director Stewart, we cannot overlook this situation we have staring back at us from the United Kingdom,” he stated. “Polling numbers are coming in that are tipping the scale towards a Leave vote. The best-case scenario is going to be that there is a referendum of the referendum, nullifying and making this whole fuss moot before any motion was officially filed.”

“…and none of us here are fool enough to think that would ever be the case,” Kate said calmly. So much for bureaucratic rigmarole to slosh through first before getting to the meat and potatoes of the occasion. “You make it sound as though I directly told people to vote Leave in order to spite everything we've fought so hard to build… to spite everything my father poured his soul into in lieu of paying attention to me as a child.”

“You don’t need to tell me your family history,” the Secretary said. “You Lethbridge-Stewarts are sneaky, popping up when I least expect them.” His attention turned towards Gordon, whom he considered carefully. “Another one? You are like a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“My son is not the concern here, but the situation we have found ourselves in,” Kate said, attempting to railroad the conversation back. “You summoned me because you have a plan, or a request for a plan, or something for us over at Mainframe UK. I have complied, arrived at short-notice, and brought along representatives from much of my staff. What do you have, Mister Secretary?”

“What I have is your husband’s file,” the Secretary said, voice nearly menacing. He picked up the manila folder and jabbed it towards her before bringing it back towards him and opening it up. “Worked in Whitehall for years—three different Prime Ministers—and he seemingly operated independently of them… almost giving some orders of his own.”

“The Government is different now… the Opposition is different… he would not have the same impact as before.”

“That does not change the fact that he is a former Whitehall insider with access to many of the people who are either making decisions, or the people who have access to the people making decisions,” a woman in a back row added. “Why is Lieutenant-Colonel Tucker not here?”

“He is my second-in-command,” Kate said. “Mainframe personnel recognize him as a competent and capable substitute in my absence. He has handled multiple emergencies in my stead when I have not been available.”

“…and where were you during these emergencies?”

“We thought she was dead at least one of the times, so it’s not like she was ignoring her duty,” Aparajita said firmly. The woman looked at her, brow furrowing.

“…and who are you…?”

“Khan—I’ve been working as Tucker’s assistant for the past six years, three years with his predecessor prior to that. I know what he is capable of in a way that Director Stewart is unable to grasp due to the nature of her relationships with him. He is precisely where he belongs right now, and not because he has had to fill in for our Director’s inequities. If she has any then they are left at home. I am here because I am his second-in-command; I might not be the correct person to handle the Mainframe in her entirety, but I am more than qualified to be his additional eyes and ears in front of a council of stuffed shirts and washed-up crossing guards.”

Their jury took note, a few murmuring with one another. Few of them appreciated Aparajita’s sharp tongue, though they could not argue against her defense of her bosses, not with how clear and confidently she spoke.

“Do the rest of you echo this sentiment?” the woman asked.

“Mister Tucker is a bit unorthodox, but a professional all the same,” Osgood replied. “His leadership skills are invaluable when Director Stewart is unavailable.”

“Agreed,” Gordon echoed.

“I’ve been under the command of many different men and women,” Ji-Yu added, “and Tucker and Stewart are two of the best. Whatever brought them to the decision for him to remain at the Mainframe is sound enough reasoning for me.”

“Solid logic as any,” Bambera said.

“You also are predisposed to say so,” the Secretary replied. He frowned at the guests, though exhaled in irritation. “What about you, Dr. Shaw? Do you have a glowing review of this literal felon as well?”

“A felon…?” The scientist feigned shock and leaned forward so she could look down the table at Kate. “Living a bit on the wild side, are we?”

“Not now, Dr. Shaw…”

“Tucker is the reason I’m back at the Mainframe,” the older woman said, returning her attention to the council before them. “If you have an issue with his leadership roles, then you should have thought of that before authorizing his hiring into a role that involved… well, precisely that.”

A couple snickers came from the interrogators and the Secretary scowled. “Then I guess, as of this moment, we have little choice for the time being but to deal with the matter at-hand best we can; it still does not change the fact we need to deploy Tucker to Whitehall in order to influence policy, lest we need to upgrade the Ireland Auxiliary to the area’s Mainframe."

“Tucker has been in active political games against most of the people currently within Whitehall,” Kate reminded them. She kept a mask of calm, not wanting to betray the fact she was absolutely mortified at the idea of UNIT pulling the entire Mainframe out of the UK, where they were needed. It was not as though Ireland was without want, but their auxiliary more than handled the island, where as the Mainframe itself… it was simply imperative it stayed put for more reasons than her vanity. “I doubt they’d be willing to have a friendly chat with him when the last time they spoke, he threatened to eviscerate them and spread their entrails across several ridings should a policy go awry.”

“I thought you said he was a professional,” another military woman said. “Professionals don’t threaten violence like that.”

“Have you ever tried getting a politician to get their head out of their own arse for long enough to function properly?” Kate posited. “It occasionally takes some strong language and vivid details in regards to the consequences, let alone making it clear there might be consequences at all. Threats can be the same as love letters in that line of work.”

“As someone who used to deal with some of their lot as their incompetence was ripening,” Dr. Shaw added, “the Brigadier-Director is being kind in her assessment.”

“So then he cannot aide UNIT in gaining favorable positions within Brexit negotiations?”

“We’ll be lucky if he can make it in past the Number 10 cat, let alone to anyone with a position that can lead to policy molding,” Kate said. “The crowd in power has no fealty to, nor fear of, him like other Governments did.”

“Pity.” The Secretary closed the file folder in irritation. “Then why, pray tell, did we authorize commuting a decades-long prison sentence, allowing him to walk free with the assumption that he would help keep the British government in line?”

“Sir,” Aparajita interrupted, “that was done under a coalition government, completely different than the one we currently have in place. Demographics within the British Government and Opposition have shifted and the political landscape is no longer like it was when Mister Tucker was released.”

“She is correct,” Kate added. “To think that he has the same effect in a different environment is to completely ignore the politicking that got us a Leave vote to begin with.”

“They have a point,” an American shrugged. “It’d be like siccing him on whomever gets to move into the White House next year; you can do it, sure, but I don’t know how well it’ll work.”

“The Yank has spoken,” an Indian man joked. A couple others snickered in response.

“I’m all for cussing more, but I’m just saying,” the American replied. “Why didn’t we summon Tucker as well, if you wanted to grill him so hard?”

“I shouldn’t need to request individuals when it’s clear the highest in command persons are needed,” the Secretary said. “Do you have a plan in place, Stewart? You clearly have had time to think about the possible outcomes.”

“We were prepared to formulate plans starting today, adjusting as the climate changed,” Kate said. “We have the barebones already, and are merely preparing to add the details, since we don’t know how negotiations with the EU are going to be approached.”

“Then you have three months to report back on your contingency plans,” the Secretary ordered. “We need you to be as thorough as possible.”

“What happens if there is not enough to go on that would constitute the makings of a plan?” Gordon wondered.

“You better come additionally prepared,” the Secretary decided. “Now leave, and hope that we don’t need to put in a few thousand transfer notices in a few months.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kate stood and, without making sure the others were following, left the conference room. She went down corridors until she found an empty hall, slipping in to give herself a moment. When she turned back towards the door, she saw that her coworkers had followed, and that Ji-Yu was working on locking the door behind them.

“Jesus fuck,” she shivered. Kate’s whole body began to shake and she started to feel weak-kneed. Gordon sat her down in one of the chairs and watched as she began to crumble. “This is not going to be pretty.”

“No one ever said it was going to be pretty, whether the Referendum passed or not,” Aparajita said.

“It’s ascended past ‘not pretty’ and gone straight towards ‘total disaster’,” Ji-Yu frowned.

“That’s putting it nicely,” Osgood said through clenched teeth.

“Just SHUT UP!” Kate snapped, raising her voice. “We get the bloody point!”

“Mum, please…”

“We are both on-duty—it’s Brigadier-Director,” she fired back. “I am not about to lay down and let everything that our predecessors fought and bled for to just die, just because a bunch of racist, Thatcherite cunts were able to find a scapegoat for the fact that half the bloody world is no longer ours to exploit at their leisure! We’re not perfect, but that doesn’t mean we deserve to eliminate all that hard work!”

“…but Granddad…”

“…is not here right now!” Her fingers could not stop twitching as her world was crashing down all around her. “He’s not here, and at the first available opportunity, those fucking wankers are ready to piss on his grave and dismantle everything he and the rest of the Old Guard did! The only reason UNIT as a whole exists in the form it does is because of them! Because of him! Fuck!” She let the tears flow from her eyes as she sunk down to fold her arms on the table, resting her forehead on them. Every bit of her felt wobbly and angry, like she needed to be sick all over the mockingly-standardized office rug beneath her. “They’re pathetic.”

The others all glanced at one another, not entirely certain how to approach not only their Director, but their mother, friend, and reminder of those already gone. She was grieving all over again, making her nerves more raw and exposed than they'd seen in a long time, if ever, especially since she was very clearly channeling her husband. A chill washed over Kate and she visibly shivered. “Let’s get out of here before I get sick.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Gordon agreed. “How about it ladies? Osgood? I think we all could use a bit of a rest before heading back to the mainframe.”

“I think, maybe, that would be best,” Aparajita agreed. She offered Kate a hand up as she stood, noticing how truly shaky she was. “Don’t those cunts know how we’ve been operating with relative ease as of late? It's not like we’ve fallen into one of our turnover bouts.”

“Tanja’s in one, from what I hear,” Ji-Yu offered. “Maybe that’ll help us in the end.”

“We need all the advantage we can get,” Aparajita said.

She passed the Brigadier-Director over to Gordon and the group carefully went on their way towards the barracks, where they were able to rest in peace. They were careful to avoid running into anyone, or talking to old acquaintances and transferees, and were able to snatch up a trio of short-term visitors’ suites all next to one another. It was only bunks and some chairs and a table, but it was enough room for them to plop themselves down two to a room. Gordon made a sweep of the suite Kate and him were sharing and found it to his satisfaction before sinking onto his own bunk.

“Is Fiona with Conall?” he asked, trying to come up with something different—something normal—to talk about. His mother had already laid down and was staring at the ceiling. “Mum…?”

“Yeah; she’s with him.”

“Wasn’t she supposed to be at work today?”

“No.”

The young man frowned—whether it was his boss or his mum, this wasn't going to do. “You’re scaring me.” She allowed her head to fall to the side, looking at him dully. “Don’t make me bring Granddad into this again.”

“Fuck… I don’t need this… not from them, not from the council, not from you…”

“Then who from?”

Not wanting to answer that, Kate rolled over, facing the drab grey wall of the barracks, blocking him out instead. Her mind was going at hundreds of miles per hour, and all of them were shit.

“I guess I’ll get some sleep as well—the flight back’s going to need me in decent shape,” Gordon said. He laid down and ignored his mum; he was going to try again later.

Except, what he didn’t know, was that she was fighting back tears, allowing herself a more private moment. What she wanted was to simply fuck off back to Mainframe UK and get her husband in a panic room for a few hours before regrouping, but she couldn’t. Not for a few hours at the least… but those few hours were going to be hellish in the meantime.

Once she heard her son snoring quietly, Kate reached into her pocket and brought out her personal mobile, unlocking the screen and pulling up a photo of her father. More a photo of a photo, she had snapped the image from an album last time she went to visit Benton and his wife, having found the ghost of miscellaneous members of the Old Guard to be intriguing. The Elder Osgood was there, carrying a bunch of drinks over to the table at the pub, where her father was sitting along with Benton, the Doctor, Yates, and a few others from back in the 1970’s. Benton had told her it was one of the photos Jo Grant had taken during their many exploits; for her, it was a rare glimpse of the man who seemed so aloof and absent, who she only really began to understand once she began working with him. To see him mid-drink wasn’t anything new, but in such a relaxed setting while so young… it was an odd, completely foreign thing to her.

After a moment, she swiped through her pictures until she found a different photo: one of Gordon and Fiona as children, possibly around 2003 based on the length of her son’s hair. Another few photos and there was her older two with her father, with her mother, with their other siblings, at this house and that place, and she thought about everything she and her father had missed because of UNIT… all to be washed away if the council didn’t think it worth working with the UK anymore to stay where they were.

She came across a photo of Malcolm and Conall, the latter sitting atop the former’s shoulder as they watched television. Shoulder—Malcolm’s left shoulder, specifically, like a bloody parrot—why of all the places? He hadn’t sat like that before or since, meaning she was a bit glad that she had captured the moment when she did. Another picture and she found Fiona, Gordon, and Kanda at Marco’s wedding, another with the kids along with Lex and Euan… and no matter what she found, it tugged at her heart because it was all now at risk.

The mobile buzzed and Kate checked the messages—Malcolm.

‘Is there a verdict?’

She hesitated, thumbs over the keyboard.

‘We have until September to come up with multiple survival plans,’ she replied. She paused again, thinking about how to word the next part. ‘They want to force my hand.’

Minutes passed.

‘What do those fucking suits think they can force?’

‘Deploying you.’

More time passed, during which Kate began to stare at more photos. A new message came up just as she was staring at a picture of Malcolm at the bunyip farm down in the Australian bush.

‘To Whitehall, I presume?’

‘We told them it wouldn’t work.’

Another pause.

‘Do you need me to call you?’

‘What I need is YOU, here, but instead I’m in a fucking jail cell of a suite with my son sleeping on the other side of the room and a sense of dread so intense I’m getting a headache.’

Moments later and her mobile began to buzz as a call attempted to come through. It was Malcolm, though she didn’t answer. Kate knew that she didn’t need Gordon accidentally listening in on the two of them, nor did she want to risk talking about anything else. All she wanted to do was get some sleep at that point, because it was about as much as she could fucking stand. She had just barely drifted off when the mobile in her hand buzzed, jolting her back awake.

It was a voicemail… from Malcolm… that was twenty-seven minutes and forty seconds, fuck. So much for her inbox space. She popped an earbud in the ear that was resting against her pillow and plugged in the headphones, wanting to be safe.

“Kate? Yeah? I know you can’t talk, so I thought I’d do the talking for you. Just put the message on pause for a moment and make sure it’s clear before listening to the rest, okay? Yeah? You good? I don’t exactly want to talk dirty to you if my fucking stepson is your security detail within ear’s shot…”

She fell back asleep listening to the message, her husband’s violently explicit threats towards Geneva HQ and graphically sexual promises towards several of her body parts actually allowing her to relax better as she attempted again to get some rest.

#The Thick of UNIT #Kate Stewart #Malcolm Tucker #satstewart #bollockingUNIT #Malcolm x Kate #Doctor Who #The Thick of It #fan fiction #Gordon Lethbridge Stewart #Aparajita Khan #Petronella Osgood #Hwang Ji Yu #Winifred Bambera

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