Post by Fitz Kreiner on Mar 23, 2009 14:40:47 GMT
A stunned silence fell over the lab as Morris, Tom and Jess stared at the Doctor dumbstruck at both his outburst and his theory that the Master was present. Morris could feel his heart racing at the mention of the criminals’ name. He’d read the reports written down by Lethbridge-Stewart in the seventies. Then, the realisation hit home about where he’d heard the company name before.
“It can’t be,” Morris said slowly. “We’ve been dealing with them for years, and they’ve been about for longer.”
“What do you mean; dealing with them?” The Doctor asked, spinning to face Morris, his mouth set in a grim line.
“They’ve supplied us with dummies and other equipment for training exercises.” Morris said uncomfortable with how the Doctor was looking at him. “We’re not amateurs at UNIT. I’ve met Lemaitre and we did thoroughly investigate them before we dealt with them, what with the nature of our work.”
“Thoroughly investigated?” the Doctor leant on the desk and looked closely into Morris’ face.
“I’ve been there myself, several times,” he protested and noticing the look on the Doctor’s face quickly added; “And I spotted nothing out of the ordinary.”
“That maybe,” the Doctor said, straightening himself up and regaining his calmer composure, “but I’d like to check it out myself. With you, Will, and Tom; could you arrange some transport for us, please?”
“Yes si- Doctor.” Morris said, correcting himself and turning and leaving the lab.
“What about me?” Jess asked slightly upset at being left out.
“Ah, Jess. Jess, Jess, Jess, Jess, Jess.” The Doctor smiled and turned round to face her smiling. “If the Master is involved, it would probably be best if Tom or I spotted him.”
“You’re thinking about the last time we met the Master, aren’t you?” Jess replied. “But I know how to resist hypnosis now, I’ve worked on it.”
“Yes, yes I suppose I am.” The Doctor said softly, “But this is your own time, London. Think of it as a little holiday. Camden is right outside. We’ll be back for six, meet us back here. Unless you really want to do some work, then there’s some research you can do into Monsieur Lemaître and-”
“Thanks Doctor, but I think your first suggestion was your better one.” Jess smiled.
Smiling back the Doctor waved his hand beside Jess’s face and produced a credit card from seemingly thin air. “That should do you for money.” He winked.
The black Mercedes pulled up in the car park of Les Plastiques Maîtrisent London office. Observing from his office window, Monsieur Lemaitre nodded slowly to himself as he watched Captain Morris emerge from the passenger seat and say something to the private who had just emerged from the driving seat. Moving the blinds apart, Lemaitre peered through the glass at the two other men who emerged from the car. As he watched, the private stood relaxed by the car, wandering about the car park, as the three other men walked into the reception area.
This is most unlike Morris, Lemaitre thought as he walked back to a large cabinet on the side of the office. Opening it, he picked up a large crystal decanter and poured himself a large brandy into a crystal glass. Closing back up the cabinet, he walked back to his large mahogany desk and sat down. Reaching across to the intercom sat on his desk, he pressed the call button and sat back waiting.
Several seconds later, the large office doors opened and his Personal Assistant, Andrea Rogers entered, standing at the doorway waiting.
“Andrea, Captain Morris has arrived avec a couple of gentlemen. Would you kindly let me know when they get here?” Lemaitre said, not looking up.
“Captain Morris? But he hasn’t called ahead this time.” Andrea replied, clearly confused. “I didn’t think he was meant to be back for another two weeks.”
“Neither did I, but it seems as though he is.” Lemaitre looked up and rested his elbows on the desk top. “Make sure that everything is running smoothly, in case they want to look around.”
“Yes Monsieur. I’ll make sure that everyone below knows.” She smiled turning and leaving the office. Crossing back to her desk, Andrea flicked on a small monitor and clicked through several of the many CCTV cameras set throughout the building. She soon found Captain Morris marching through the admin. block, followed by the two strange men. Tying her blonde hair back, she pushed her glasses back up her nose as there was a rapping on the door. Switching off the monitor and adjusting her blouse, she stood up and walked to the door.
“Good afternoon Captain,” She smiled, “A pleasure and surprise to see you back here again so soon.”
“I wish this were a social call, Miss Rogers.” Morris said, shaking her hand. “We’re here on a top secret matter and wish to talk with Monsieur Lemaitre.”
“All of you?” Andrea asked, looking at the small party.
“Yes, all of us,” the Doctor replied stepping round Morris and heading to Lemaitre’s office door. “I trust that’s not a problem. Through here is it?”
“Oh, sorry sir, I can’t let you go through unannounced.” Andrea said, dashing in front of the Doctor.
The Doctor paused and fixed Andrea with a piercing and bright stare and large smiled. “Of course, how amiss of me, I’m terribly sorry. If you would kindly let Monsieur Lemaitre know we’re here?”
Smiling and nodding, Andrea dashed back and pressed a button on the intercom. “Captain Morris and a couple of gentlemen to see you, Monsieur.”
“Bon, send them through Andrea, sil vous plait.” Lemaitre’s tinny voice came from the speaker.
Returning to the doors, Andrea opened it, revealing Lemaitre sat at his desk. The short Frenchman got to his feet as Morris entered, followed by the Doctor and Tom.
“Captain, welcome. It is a pleasure to see again.” He said with a thick accent.
“He’s really laying this on.” Tom whispered to the Doctor, who waved him quiet.
“I wish it were, Monsieur.” Morris said. “Allow me to introduce my colleagues, the Doctor and Mr. Tom Rowan. I’m afraid we’re not here socially, this is a business call.”
Lemaitre spread his arms and indicated to the two chairs opposite him on the desk. “Sit, sil vous plait.” He said to the Doctor and Morris before turning to Andrea. “Andrea, would you kindly take Monsieur Rowan to the floor, he may be interested to see how our work is progressing for the next order.”
“Yes, Monsieur.” Andrea nodded and gestured back towards the rest of the office. “Mr. Rowan?”
Tom shot a look at the Doctor who nodded slightly and shot a brief wink. Turning, Tom left the office and Andrea closed the door behind them. After the door closed, Lemaitre turned towards the Doctor and Morris and smiled.
“Bon, what can I do for you two gentlemen?” He asked.
Unsure about where to start, Morris looked over at the Doctor for help. The Time Lord was leaning forwards, his arms resting on his knees and his hands clasped together, staring intently at Lemaitre. Looking across the desk to the Frenchman, Morris saw that he was looking rather bemused from the Doctor to Morris.
“Monsieur Lemaitre,” the Doctor said slowly. “How long, precisely, have you owned this company?”
Lemaitre sat back and blinked, unprepared for the question. “I inherited the factory from my father.” He said, swiftly regaining his composure. “He passed away a year ago, if you must know. I still work with his former partner. Miss Rogers is his niece in fact.”
“I see,” the Doctor mused, sitting back and tapping his lips with a finger. “And were you born here, in the UK, only you’ve a very strong accent.”
“Non. Non, non, non.” Lemaitre shook his head. “I lived with my mother in France until I was 30. I moved to England 5 years ago. May I ask why you are asking all this?”
Morris looked over to the Doctor. He could feel the tension rising in the room and wondered what the Doctor would do or say next.
“Very well, Monsieur,” The Doctor smiled. “Let me begin at the beginning.” And he told him.
Private Baxter was walking back to the reception area of the office building when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A strange bald man was walking stiffly across the ground from the office building to the factory. Seeing a chance to investigate himself, Baxter called out to the man. His call went unanswered even though the man must have heard him. Running over to the door the man had disappeared through, Baxter peered through the glass. There were several other men in the room, all bald. Seizing his change, Baxter walked through the door.
Tom followed Andrea through the Admin. block, not attracting as many looks and comments as he had when he went through with the Doctor and Morris, he noted. So far everything seemed normal; the staff were on the phones, laughing and chatting about the latest celebrity gossip, pictures and posters were on the walls and it seemed an amicable working atmosphere.
The only thing Tom could note was that the staff were all of a similar age; mid twenties. The only exceptions he had spotted were Lemaitre and Andrea, the latter of whom seemed in her mid thirties. He could only assume that she was one of the senior staff and had been there a while. Indeed, she was dressed smarter than the rest of the Admin. staff; wearing a grey trouser suit and white shirt.
Following Andrea, Tom kept his eyes open, scanning the surroundings as he went. He’d tried to keep a conversation afloat, but his small talk, he had to admit, was terrible and kept filtering away to nothing. Turning another corner, he followed Andrea over a covered bridge from the offices section of the company and into the factory. It could only be a factory, the large building ahead.
They turned the corner and Andrea paused by a wall mounted rack and some storage lockers. Opening one of the lockers, she produced two hard hats and passed one over to Tom.
“You should probably put this on; we don’t want you suing us if something accidentally hits you.” She chuckled.
“Thanks.” Tom smiled placing the hard plastic helmet over his head, adjusting the size so it sat comfortably. “So what’s the plan? You got a set tour or what?”
Andrea smiled and opened the doors to the main factory. “We don’t normally take tours round the factory, but as you UNIT fellows are such good customers, we always oblige you. Plus, I think some of the girls upstairs like the men in uniform.”
Tom smiled as he followed Andrea round the corner and onto an observation gantry. There was a large office with Perspex windows on all sides at the far end, clearly the nerve centre of the factory. There was someone inside working, he could see, most probably the foreman. He looked round when Andrea and Tom entered, smiling at Andrea and fixing his eyes onto Tom.
“Mr Rowan, let me introduce you to Bernard Rogers, my Uncle, he founded the company with Monsieur Lemaitre senior and has stayed on down in the factory. Bernard, this is Mr. Rowan, he’s a member of UNIT, here to check out the latest order we’re preparing.” Andrea said.
“Ah, Mr. Rowan, such a pleasure to meet you.” Bernard smiled stepping forward and holding his hand out. “We weren’t expecting a visit from you so soon, not that you’re not welcome.”
“Yes, well,” Tom stumbled over his words, not sure where to go with his bluff. “Well, we like to keep an eye on all our projects.”
“Well, Mr Rowan, we’re honoured, it’s not often we have one of your plain clothes people here.” Bernard said crossing the office and picking up a hard hat from a stand and putting it on, the bright plastic contrasting with his dark suit. “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you around the processing section.”
Lemaitre sat back in his chair with a sigh of relief. Morris and the Doctor had finally left his office. It felt as though they would never leave, the three hour conversation had started to get rather tiring. It seemed as though the Doctor could talk for England. He had been so grateful when Andrea had returned with Mr. Rowan, having shown him round the factory and the UNIT order. The young man had seemed satisfied with what he had seen and the Doctor had seemed to accept this as a call to leave.
Getting to his feet, Lemaitre crossed over to the drinks cabinet and opened the wooden doors and poured himself another large brandy. Downing half the liquid, he turned and crossed to the large windows that dominated one wall of his office. Peering through the venetian blinds he watched as the Doctor, Rowan and Morris all exited the reception, accompanied by the soldier who had driven them here. He must have gotten bored wandering around the car park and gone inside to sit down.
So engrossed was he with watching the departing party, he didn’t notice the sound of his office door open and two figures enter until they were both stood behind him.
“Well?”
Lemaitre stiffened at the deep purring voice. He turned round to see Andrea Rogers standing just behind the figure of Bernard Rogers, stood impassively staring Lemaitre down with dark eyes.
“They’re leaving now.” He replied. “That, that Doctor, he seemed to suspect me of something and he knew an awful lot of strange things. They weren’t true were they?”
“Well, that all depends on what the Doctor told you.”
“He said that some of our products had been used in a series of murders. It seemed as though he was blaming us for that.” He almost laughed crossing back to his desk. “And he quizzed me rather intently about my father and my ownership of this company.”
Andrea shot a nervous glance over to the third occupant of the room, who had crossed over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a generous serving of brandy. He paused and placed the glass down on the wooden counter and turned to face Lemaitre.
“Your ownership of this company rests entirely with me, Monsieur Lemaitre.” He purred, fixing him with a dark stare. “Don’t you forget that.”
“Oui, pardon.” Lemaitre said looking down at the mahogany grain before looking up.
Walking over to Lemaitre’s desk, Rogers places his hands flat on the desk and leaned over. “Look at me, Lemaitre.” He purred.
Looking up, Lemaitre found himself looking into a pair of dark and hypnotic eyes.
“You will obey me, do you understand? You will obey.”
“I... I will obey.” Lemaitre repeated his eyes wide. “Yes, the Doctor seemed satisfied when he left.” He said, suddenly confident again and sitting back.
“And even if he does, we will know about it as soon as he does.” Rogers said, walking over to the window and parting the blinds and peering out.
“What do you mean?” Lemaitre asked.
“We have our own infiltrator into the UNIT ranks.” The Master turned from where he was stood at the blinds and smiled.
“It can’t be,” Morris said slowly. “We’ve been dealing with them for years, and they’ve been about for longer.”
“What do you mean; dealing with them?” The Doctor asked, spinning to face Morris, his mouth set in a grim line.
“They’ve supplied us with dummies and other equipment for training exercises.” Morris said uncomfortable with how the Doctor was looking at him. “We’re not amateurs at UNIT. I’ve met Lemaitre and we did thoroughly investigate them before we dealt with them, what with the nature of our work.”
“Thoroughly investigated?” the Doctor leant on the desk and looked closely into Morris’ face.
“I’ve been there myself, several times,” he protested and noticing the look on the Doctor’s face quickly added; “And I spotted nothing out of the ordinary.”
“That maybe,” the Doctor said, straightening himself up and regaining his calmer composure, “but I’d like to check it out myself. With you, Will, and Tom; could you arrange some transport for us, please?”
“Yes si- Doctor.” Morris said, correcting himself and turning and leaving the lab.
“What about me?” Jess asked slightly upset at being left out.
“Ah, Jess. Jess, Jess, Jess, Jess, Jess.” The Doctor smiled and turned round to face her smiling. “If the Master is involved, it would probably be best if Tom or I spotted him.”
“You’re thinking about the last time we met the Master, aren’t you?” Jess replied. “But I know how to resist hypnosis now, I’ve worked on it.”
“Yes, yes I suppose I am.” The Doctor said softly, “But this is your own time, London. Think of it as a little holiday. Camden is right outside. We’ll be back for six, meet us back here. Unless you really want to do some work, then there’s some research you can do into Monsieur Lemaître and-”
“Thanks Doctor, but I think your first suggestion was your better one.” Jess smiled.
Smiling back the Doctor waved his hand beside Jess’s face and produced a credit card from seemingly thin air. “That should do you for money.” He winked.
*
The black Mercedes pulled up in the car park of Les Plastiques Maîtrisent London office. Observing from his office window, Monsieur Lemaitre nodded slowly to himself as he watched Captain Morris emerge from the passenger seat and say something to the private who had just emerged from the driving seat. Moving the blinds apart, Lemaitre peered through the glass at the two other men who emerged from the car. As he watched, the private stood relaxed by the car, wandering about the car park, as the three other men walked into the reception area.
This is most unlike Morris, Lemaitre thought as he walked back to a large cabinet on the side of the office. Opening it, he picked up a large crystal decanter and poured himself a large brandy into a crystal glass. Closing back up the cabinet, he walked back to his large mahogany desk and sat down. Reaching across to the intercom sat on his desk, he pressed the call button and sat back waiting.
Several seconds later, the large office doors opened and his Personal Assistant, Andrea Rogers entered, standing at the doorway waiting.
“Andrea, Captain Morris has arrived avec a couple of gentlemen. Would you kindly let me know when they get here?” Lemaitre said, not looking up.
“Captain Morris? But he hasn’t called ahead this time.” Andrea replied, clearly confused. “I didn’t think he was meant to be back for another two weeks.”
“Neither did I, but it seems as though he is.” Lemaitre looked up and rested his elbows on the desk top. “Make sure that everything is running smoothly, in case they want to look around.”
“Yes Monsieur. I’ll make sure that everyone below knows.” She smiled turning and leaving the office. Crossing back to her desk, Andrea flicked on a small monitor and clicked through several of the many CCTV cameras set throughout the building. She soon found Captain Morris marching through the admin. block, followed by the two strange men. Tying her blonde hair back, she pushed her glasses back up her nose as there was a rapping on the door. Switching off the monitor and adjusting her blouse, she stood up and walked to the door.
“Good afternoon Captain,” She smiled, “A pleasure and surprise to see you back here again so soon.”
“I wish this were a social call, Miss Rogers.” Morris said, shaking her hand. “We’re here on a top secret matter and wish to talk with Monsieur Lemaitre.”
“All of you?” Andrea asked, looking at the small party.
“Yes, all of us,” the Doctor replied stepping round Morris and heading to Lemaitre’s office door. “I trust that’s not a problem. Through here is it?”
“Oh, sorry sir, I can’t let you go through unannounced.” Andrea said, dashing in front of the Doctor.
The Doctor paused and fixed Andrea with a piercing and bright stare and large smiled. “Of course, how amiss of me, I’m terribly sorry. If you would kindly let Monsieur Lemaitre know we’re here?”
Smiling and nodding, Andrea dashed back and pressed a button on the intercom. “Captain Morris and a couple of gentlemen to see you, Monsieur.”
“Bon, send them through Andrea, sil vous plait.” Lemaitre’s tinny voice came from the speaker.
Returning to the doors, Andrea opened it, revealing Lemaitre sat at his desk. The short Frenchman got to his feet as Morris entered, followed by the Doctor and Tom.
“Captain, welcome. It is a pleasure to see again.” He said with a thick accent.
“He’s really laying this on.” Tom whispered to the Doctor, who waved him quiet.
“I wish it were, Monsieur.” Morris said. “Allow me to introduce my colleagues, the Doctor and Mr. Tom Rowan. I’m afraid we’re not here socially, this is a business call.”
Lemaitre spread his arms and indicated to the two chairs opposite him on the desk. “Sit, sil vous plait.” He said to the Doctor and Morris before turning to Andrea. “Andrea, would you kindly take Monsieur Rowan to the floor, he may be interested to see how our work is progressing for the next order.”
“Yes, Monsieur.” Andrea nodded and gestured back towards the rest of the office. “Mr. Rowan?”
Tom shot a look at the Doctor who nodded slightly and shot a brief wink. Turning, Tom left the office and Andrea closed the door behind them. After the door closed, Lemaitre turned towards the Doctor and Morris and smiled.
“Bon, what can I do for you two gentlemen?” He asked.
Unsure about where to start, Morris looked over at the Doctor for help. The Time Lord was leaning forwards, his arms resting on his knees and his hands clasped together, staring intently at Lemaitre. Looking across the desk to the Frenchman, Morris saw that he was looking rather bemused from the Doctor to Morris.
“Monsieur Lemaitre,” the Doctor said slowly. “How long, precisely, have you owned this company?”
Lemaitre sat back and blinked, unprepared for the question. “I inherited the factory from my father.” He said, swiftly regaining his composure. “He passed away a year ago, if you must know. I still work with his former partner. Miss Rogers is his niece in fact.”
“I see,” the Doctor mused, sitting back and tapping his lips with a finger. “And were you born here, in the UK, only you’ve a very strong accent.”
“Non. Non, non, non.” Lemaitre shook his head. “I lived with my mother in France until I was 30. I moved to England 5 years ago. May I ask why you are asking all this?”
Morris looked over to the Doctor. He could feel the tension rising in the room and wondered what the Doctor would do or say next.
“Very well, Monsieur,” The Doctor smiled. “Let me begin at the beginning.” And he told him.
*
Private Baxter was walking back to the reception area of the office building when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A strange bald man was walking stiffly across the ground from the office building to the factory. Seeing a chance to investigate himself, Baxter called out to the man. His call went unanswered even though the man must have heard him. Running over to the door the man had disappeared through, Baxter peered through the glass. There were several other men in the room, all bald. Seizing his change, Baxter walked through the door.
*
Tom followed Andrea through the Admin. block, not attracting as many looks and comments as he had when he went through with the Doctor and Morris, he noted. So far everything seemed normal; the staff were on the phones, laughing and chatting about the latest celebrity gossip, pictures and posters were on the walls and it seemed an amicable working atmosphere.
The only thing Tom could note was that the staff were all of a similar age; mid twenties. The only exceptions he had spotted were Lemaitre and Andrea, the latter of whom seemed in her mid thirties. He could only assume that she was one of the senior staff and had been there a while. Indeed, she was dressed smarter than the rest of the Admin. staff; wearing a grey trouser suit and white shirt.
Following Andrea, Tom kept his eyes open, scanning the surroundings as he went. He’d tried to keep a conversation afloat, but his small talk, he had to admit, was terrible and kept filtering away to nothing. Turning another corner, he followed Andrea over a covered bridge from the offices section of the company and into the factory. It could only be a factory, the large building ahead.
They turned the corner and Andrea paused by a wall mounted rack and some storage lockers. Opening one of the lockers, she produced two hard hats and passed one over to Tom.
“You should probably put this on; we don’t want you suing us if something accidentally hits you.” She chuckled.
“Thanks.” Tom smiled placing the hard plastic helmet over his head, adjusting the size so it sat comfortably. “So what’s the plan? You got a set tour or what?”
Andrea smiled and opened the doors to the main factory. “We don’t normally take tours round the factory, but as you UNIT fellows are such good customers, we always oblige you. Plus, I think some of the girls upstairs like the men in uniform.”
Tom smiled as he followed Andrea round the corner and onto an observation gantry. There was a large office with Perspex windows on all sides at the far end, clearly the nerve centre of the factory. There was someone inside working, he could see, most probably the foreman. He looked round when Andrea and Tom entered, smiling at Andrea and fixing his eyes onto Tom.
“Mr Rowan, let me introduce you to Bernard Rogers, my Uncle, he founded the company with Monsieur Lemaitre senior and has stayed on down in the factory. Bernard, this is Mr. Rowan, he’s a member of UNIT, here to check out the latest order we’re preparing.” Andrea said.
“Ah, Mr. Rowan, such a pleasure to meet you.” Bernard smiled stepping forward and holding his hand out. “We weren’t expecting a visit from you so soon, not that you’re not welcome.”
“Yes, well,” Tom stumbled over his words, not sure where to go with his bluff. “Well, we like to keep an eye on all our projects.”
“Well, Mr Rowan, we’re honoured, it’s not often we have one of your plain clothes people here.” Bernard said crossing the office and picking up a hard hat from a stand and putting it on, the bright plastic contrasting with his dark suit. “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you around the processing section.”
*
Lemaitre sat back in his chair with a sigh of relief. Morris and the Doctor had finally left his office. It felt as though they would never leave, the three hour conversation had started to get rather tiring. It seemed as though the Doctor could talk for England. He had been so grateful when Andrea had returned with Mr. Rowan, having shown him round the factory and the UNIT order. The young man had seemed satisfied with what he had seen and the Doctor had seemed to accept this as a call to leave.
Getting to his feet, Lemaitre crossed over to the drinks cabinet and opened the wooden doors and poured himself another large brandy. Downing half the liquid, he turned and crossed to the large windows that dominated one wall of his office. Peering through the venetian blinds he watched as the Doctor, Rowan and Morris all exited the reception, accompanied by the soldier who had driven them here. He must have gotten bored wandering around the car park and gone inside to sit down.
So engrossed was he with watching the departing party, he didn’t notice the sound of his office door open and two figures enter until they were both stood behind him.
“Well?”
Lemaitre stiffened at the deep purring voice. He turned round to see Andrea Rogers standing just behind the figure of Bernard Rogers, stood impassively staring Lemaitre down with dark eyes.
“They’re leaving now.” He replied. “That, that Doctor, he seemed to suspect me of something and he knew an awful lot of strange things. They weren’t true were they?”
“Well, that all depends on what the Doctor told you.”
“He said that some of our products had been used in a series of murders. It seemed as though he was blaming us for that.” He almost laughed crossing back to his desk. “And he quizzed me rather intently about my father and my ownership of this company.”
Andrea shot a nervous glance over to the third occupant of the room, who had crossed over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a generous serving of brandy. He paused and placed the glass down on the wooden counter and turned to face Lemaitre.
“Your ownership of this company rests entirely with me, Monsieur Lemaitre.” He purred, fixing him with a dark stare. “Don’t you forget that.”
“Oui, pardon.” Lemaitre said looking down at the mahogany grain before looking up.
Walking over to Lemaitre’s desk, Rogers places his hands flat on the desk and leaned over. “Look at me, Lemaitre.” He purred.
Looking up, Lemaitre found himself looking into a pair of dark and hypnotic eyes.
“You will obey me, do you understand? You will obey.”
“I... I will obey.” Lemaitre repeated his eyes wide. “Yes, the Doctor seemed satisfied when he left.” He said, suddenly confident again and sitting back.
“And even if he does, we will know about it as soon as he does.” Rogers said, walking over to the window and parting the blinds and peering out.
“What do you mean?” Lemaitre asked.
“We have our own infiltrator into the UNIT ranks.” The Master turned from where he was stood at the blinds and smiled.