Facsimile [Complete Story]

[Fitz Kreiner]

Suzanne Ashfield closed the cupboard door and turned round to look round the kitchen. Her husband had been away for a week now and was due back later that afternoon. That was the one part of his new job that she didn’t like, the long times he spent away from home. Still, she’d done the shopping and later would prepare his favourite meal for his return; in the meantime, the housework needed doing.

Opening the cupboard under the stairs, Suzanne wheeled the vacuum cleaner out and plugged it into the socket in the kitchen. Her hand moved towards the on switch when the ringing of the telephone made her jump. Mentally chastising herself for jumping at the sound, she turned and picked up the receiver.

“Hello? Ashfield residence,” she said. “Hello?”

Suzanne took the receiver from her ear and looked at it puzzled. A strange tone was coming from it. It must be a crossed line or the other person disconnected, she thought as she put it back in the cradle.

Turning, Suzanne went back to the vacuum cleaner and switched the power on. The roar of the vacuum cleaner filled the room and drowned out the sound of the phone ringing again. Shaking the cable free of tangles, Suzanne pushed the vacuum cleaner into the kitchen. The sound of the telephone table in the hallway crashing to the floor made her turn around. The cable to the vacuum cleaner had got tangled with the flex for the phone and pulled it over. She was reaching for the switch to turn off the vacuum cleaner so she could sort the mess out when a blur of motion caught her attention.

Fearing there was an intruder in the house, Suzanne spun round reaching out for the block of knives on the worktop. She was almost in reach when the cable of the vacuum cleaner flashed over her head and round her neck. Choking in shock, Suzanne staggered backwards, the knife block clattered over, the knives scattering away from her reach. Scared and panicking, Suzanne reached to her neck to try to prise the garrotte from her throat, but to no avail. Her vision starting to cloud, she hit and kicked behind her, hoping to catch her attacker and loosen the cord. Her eyes bulged as the cord tightened round her throat and her swipes and kicks hit thin air.

Gasping for her last breath, her eyes fell onto the kitchen window, and the figure stood in the garden staring at her. A bald man, with a seemingly plain, blank face, stood motionless and unfazed at the drama unfolding before him. As her world grew dark, Suzanne could have been sure that the man had no eyes, or any discernable features. It was the last thought to ever cross her mind.

*

It was dark, a black in which no light could penetrate. They were all around him. He couldn’t see them but he could feel their presence. He could feel them closing in on him and could almost see their blank faces and cold, blank, dead eyes. They were getting closer. Closer in the dark. He still couldn’t see anything, but he could feel them. Then; the voice. That voice. That flat, emotionless voice cutting through him like-

Tom awoke with a start, a cry escaping his lips as he sat bolt upright breathing heavily. It had been the same dream again. How long had it been? Maybe he should talk to the Doctor about the dreams? The sound of the ringing bell soon distracted him from his thoughts.

“What the hell is that?” He muttered, swinging his legs off the bed.

Yawning and stretching, he reached for the dressing gown, slung across the chair not too far from the bed. Pulling it on, Tom rubbed his eyes and made for the door to his room. Opening it, the ringing seemed to get louder, yet strangely it seemed to have a source, the opposite direction to the console room.

“Doctor, what have you done now?” He sighed, setting off towards the source of the ringing.

*

Reaching out from her bed, Jess fumbled on the bedside cabinet for her alarm clock. Hitting the snooze button, she slammed her hand down on it when the ringing didn’t stop. Crying out, she grabbed it and threw it at the wall before sitting up and looking about. The ringing wasn’t her alarm clock. Throwing the covers back, Jess climbed groggily out of her bed. The ringing wasn’t coming from her room at all. Crossing to the door she flung it open. The ringing was louder outside.

Looking round, she saw Tom walking down the corridor towards her. The young Time Lord’s dark brown hair looked tousled and fell loose down his shoulders. He was wearing a long black dressing gown. It seemed that the ringing had awoken him too. She looked at him questioningly, one eyebrow raised.

“I’ve no idea!” He said, anticipating her question. “But it seems to be coming from this direction.”

Jess watched as he set off in the direction he’d pointed. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she set off after him, at a jog, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor of the TARDIS corridor.

“Where d’you think it’s coming from?” She asked after she’d caught up with him.

“Not a clue,” Tom replied pausing at a corridor intersection and looking both ways trying to figure out from which way the ringing was coming. Pointing one way, Tom turned and made off down the opposite direction.

Jess shivered and looked down at the baggy t-shirt and cotton shorts that she wore to bed. The TARDIS seemed colder, when normally it was comfortably warm. She wished she’d put a dressing gown on over her bed clothes. Looking up, she saw Tom disappear around another corner, and jogged to catch up. She was just about to say something when she collided with a dark velvet pillar. It took her a couple of seconds to realise that she’d just run slap bang into the Doctor, who was now extraditing himself from her, hands on her shoulders. Looking up, he seemed to be wearing a worried expression and looking past her and Tom.

“Ah, good, you’re up.” He muttered quietly, yet easily audible over the ringing. “I take it you heard the bell.”

“Well, it’s not exactly hard to miss.” Jess replied.

“What is it? What’s gone wrong now?” Tom asked, brushing stray strands of hair behind his ear.

The Doctor looked over Tom before blinking and looking at his two companions. “Hmm? What? Oh, I don’t know, at least, not yet.” He said.

“That doesn’t help.” Jess said. “What is it? Where’s it coming from?”

“The space/time telegraph.” The Doctor said absently looking over Tom’s shoulder again. “But it’s where it is and what it’s looking like now since the old girl regenerated herself.”

“Oh great,” Tom sighed. “Needle in a haystack.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” The Doctor smiled. “I trust the old girl.”

Jess looked over at Tom, a questioning look on her face as the Doctor breezed past them and back down the corridor they’d just come down. Shrugging, Tom returned the confused look and they both turned to follow the Doctor. The Time Lord was already some way ahead of them. He was just walking but seemed to moving surprisingly quickly. Jess was finding that she had to jog to catch up to him. Although she was pleased to note that Tom had to do the same. Rounding the corner the Doctor had just turned, Jess skidding to a halt, nearly tripping over her feet as she nearly ran into a dead end.

Composing herself, Jess looked round. Tom was looking stunned at the sudden appearance of the dead end as well. The Doctor was stood grinning at them both.

“Told you the old girl wouldn’t let me down.” He said.

Jess looked past the Time Lord. On the back wall there was what she took to be an old fashioned telephone, one attached to the wall. The ringing was coming from the two bells on the top of the box. Turning to it, the Doctor picked up the ear piece and held it to his ear, stopping the ringing. Crouching so his mouth was lever with the mouthpiece he spoke into it.

“Hello?” Falling silent, the Doctor listened, straightening up, before replacing the earpiece and turning to face Jess and Tom. “Well, it seems we’re being called back to Earth. By UNIT no less.”

“UNIT?” Jess asked.

“Yes,” the Doctor replied. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to make an unscheduled landing.”

“So much for sleep.” Tom muttered.

“Can’t we do it in the morning, or at least later, when we’re awake?” Jess yawned. “I mean, this is a time machine.”

The Doctor looked thoughtfully at the device on the wall, his fingers thoughtfully playing on his lips. Now he had moved to the side, Jess could see a small glass panel in the middle, revealing what looked like the blue electric strands from the inside of a plasma ball, and some other strange technology.

“Yes, ok.” He said finally, turning and smiling. “We’d work better after a good sleep. I’ll meet you in the console room later.”

*

She’d been stood staring at the spot in the corner of the room for a couple of minutes now. She wasn’t sure what to expect to happen. Glancing across, she saw Captain Morris stood impassively beside her, one hand resting on the strange gizmo on the table. A long tube on the top was pulsing with a blue light, indicating that it was working.

Suddenly the room seemed to fill with a light breeze which started to get stronger, strong enough to cause the papers in the file on the desk to move. Then came the sound, the sound that she remembered. She’d heard it only the once before, but she’d always remembered it; an unearthly sound, like wheezing and groaning.

Glancing at the windows that ran above the desks on one side of the room, she could see several Privates gathering, staring through the glass, their attention caught by the noise. Moving from where she was stood by the outside of the door, Corporal Loding soon moved over to usher them away and back to their duties.

Looking back to the corner of the room, a familiar blue shape was starting to form, rapidly gaining solidarity. The light on the top of the Police Box was pulsing, in time with the blue light on the device beside Morris. The alien sound and it’s echoing round the room, died away as the TARDIS fully solidified and sat in the corner of the room.

“Which one do you think it is, Sergeant?” Morris asked, glancing down at one of the files beside him, before picking it up.

“No idea, Sir.” She replied. “We’ll have to wait and see when he comes out.”

As if timed to the end of her sentence, the TARDIS door opened, and a head with long floppy, curly brown hair poked out and looked around.

“Corporal Lovatt!” The Doctor exclaimed as he spotted her, emerging from the TARDIS and vigorously shaking her hand.

“It’s sergeant now.” She smiled, pointing to the stripes on her arm before noticing Morris out of the corner of her eye. “Courtesy of our mutual friend in MI6.”

“Good old Harry.” The Doctor grinned before Morris cleared his throat loudly and purposefully.

“Oh, Doctor, Captain Morris. Sir, this is the Doctor.” Lovatt said, swiftly introducing the two men.

Morris glanced down at the file in his hands, before looking up at the Doctor and smiled. “Ah yes, the Edwardian one.”

Furrowing his brow, the Doctor looked at Morris. “I’m just the Doctor, Captain.”

“That’s all we need.” Morris replied gently leading the Doctor away.
Lovatt looked back at the TARDIS; two more figures had emerged. She recognised them immediately, Jess and Tom. Still looking at the door, she was surprised to see just them emerge. She smiled as they looked at her, recognising her.

“Just the two of you?” She asked, walking over to them. “Where’s Tifa?”

“She went back to her own people a few weeks ago.” Jess replied.
“Captain, Captain, Captain,” the Doctor said loudly, causing everyone to stop and look at him. “Enough prevaricating, you called us out of time for a reason, what was it?”

“Very well, Doctor.” Morris sighed; dropping the file he was holding onto the desk and picking up another. “A series of rather brutal and unprecedented murders have been sweeping across the country, more precisely, the Home Counties. Now, these murders have been occurring in the homes of the victims; politicians, high ranking police officers, army personnel, why just the other day Sir Robert Darcy, the Commissioner of the metropolitan police force, was killed in his home.”

“Murders? You brought us back for murders?” The Doctor interrupted, holding his hands up. “Don’t get me wrong, no murder is right, but I’m not a detective.”

“Yeah, isn’t this normally the role of the police?” Jess interjected.

“If you’d hear me out, please?” Morris protested. “The police have passed some of the case over to us due to certain circumstances. No motive was present, other than the victims are all VIP’s, the murders occurred in their own homes, most cases these homes had elaborate security systems in place.” Morris paused dramatically looking at the faces of the Doctor and his companions.

“Well?” Tom urged. “That’s not all, surely?”

“Very observant, sir.” Morris agreed pacing about the room. “In every case, the murderer left no traces, clues, DNA or any marks or fingerprints of any kind. It seems as though he’s able to pass through solid matter undetected. He’s not been caught on any CCTV and to make matters all the more interesting; he uses the victims own household items to commit these murders. Bizarre items as well, not the sort of thing’s you’d expect for a murder.”

“Household items? What sort of household items?” The Doctor asked, his head snapping up.

Morris walked over to the desk the Doctor was stood by and opened the file in his hands. Carefully he laid down some photographs from the folder for the Time Lord to see, aware that the Doctor’s companions were crowding in behind him to look at them as well. Glancing up at the Doctor, he saw that the Time Lord was holding his hands up to his face, palms pressed together as though he were praying, and gently tapping his index fingers against his lower lip. A worried and thoughtful expression was paying across his face. Clearly, his companions had spotted it as well, as had Sergeant Lovatt.

“What is it, Doctor?” Jess asked.

“Trouble, I’ll bet.” Tom muttered, leaning in to look at the photos.

The Doctor nodded sadly, looking up first at his companions before turning to Captain Morris, his mouth open to speak. Before he could talk, the door to the room was flung open and Corporal Loding burst in.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir.” She said, crashing to attention and saluting. “It’s just come through from the police, there’s been another murder.”

[Fitz Kreiner]

Constable Brian Haynes groaned and shuffled his feet. A large section of the private street had been cordoned off, and he’d been stood on duty here now for some time. His feet and legs were aching. He glanced over to the door to the house, which was open, as Chris Mitchell walked out towards him.

“How long does the sarg. want us out here?” He asked.

“No idea.” Mitchell shrugged, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and looking around to check that no one could see. “Called in some military investigation team, I know that.” He added nodding to a military jeep pulling up.

Accepting a cigarette behind his back from his friend, PC Haynes stood and watched as the jeep stopped and several soldiers jumped out, pulling a large box from the back of the vehicle and carrying it into the house.

“Whaddya think that is?” Haynes asked placing the cigarette in his mouth and accepting a light from Mitchell.

“No idea.” Mitchell shrugged, placing a cigarette in his own mouth as a black Mercedes pulled up behind the jeep.

“Hello, what’s all this then?” Haynes nudged Mitchell as the car doors opened and four people emerged.

The first was an army captain, in the same uniform as the four soldiers already arrived. The remaining three looked rather out of place in a crime scene, two men and a girl. The older of the men looked as though he had just fled a wedding; wearing dark grey, almost black, trousers, a deep red waistcoat and purple velvet frock coat. He had a loose dark blue cravat around his neck and the collar button of his shirt was undone. Long, wavy brown hair fell to his shoulders.

The younger and taller man was wearing a navy great coat that fell to his knees, black jeans and shirt with a brown sued waistcoat. His long hair was tied back into a pony tail revealing his dark features, beard, moustache and pointed sideburns. The girl had jet black hair tied into two pig tails and was wearing a black skirt and boots, voluminous white shirt with several of the top buttons undone and a full length black coat.

Haynes looked at the bizarre sight, his mouth slack and the cigarette hanging limply from his lower lip, as the Captain led the three strange people towards the house. He watched as the first two completely ignored him, the man in the fancy dress wearing a disturbed and worried look. Looking after them, he didn’t notice the hand in his face until the cigarette was plucked from his lips. Looking up, the younger man had grabbed it and thrown it to the floor before him and was stubbing it out with the toe of his boot.

“Ah, ah, ah!” He was scolding, turning to wag his finger at Haynes. “Not on duty, constable.”

As Haynes watched, dumbfounded, the girl spun on her heel and wagged her finger at him, making a scolding noise with her tongue before slipping her arm through the young man’s and following the Captain and fancy dress stranger into the house. Turning to Mitchell, his face a picture of confusion, his friend merely returned his confused stare.

*

Corporal Loding looked from where she was crouched on the kitchen floor, between the box she had helped bring in and the body of Suzanne Ashfield.

“Well?” Morris asked, as Loding stood up to attention.

“Suzanne Ashfield, sir.” She said, looking back down at the body. “Wife of Sir Daniel Ashfield who’s just returned from a conference in Geneva in regards to, uhm-” Corporal Loding paused and looked at the Doctor.

“It’s ok, Corporal,” Morris nodded. “Whatever you can tell me, you can tell the Doctor.”

Loding raised her eyebrows and looked over the Doctors shoulder at Tom and Jess, who were stood behind him in the hallway.

“My friends will get the same liberties as me or we’re leaving straight away.” The Doctor said, turning to Morris after noticing where Loding was glancing.

“It’s ok, Corporal.” Morris nodded.

“Well, he was attending a conference with the UN about alien incursions, after that Derbyshire affair last month, and tighter methods with dealing with them without so much interference with the public ‘til deemed necessary.”

“So in other words, how to brush contact with aliens farther under the carpet.” The Doctor nodded as he crouched down next to Suzanne Ashfield’s body. “Where is Sir Daniel now?”

“In the living room,” Loding said. “It was him who found his wife’s body, poor sod.”

“No one has touched the body?” the Doctor asked, fishing a telescopic metal rod from his pocket and looking up from where he was crouched.

“Only Sir Daniel, when he found her.” Loding reported. “His chauffer was with him as well and stopped him from contaminating the scene too much. The police have taken finger prints and there were only Suzanne’s and Sir Daniel’s.”

“Strangled with the cord of her vacuum cleaner. She died in terror, judging from the expression on her face. Arm outstretched towards the window,” the Doctor mused, gently lifting the flex with the metal rod. “And no other finger prints you say?”

“No, sir.” Loding said, watching as Jess edged her way into the room and crouched down beside the Doctor. She almost laughed when the Doctor warned her back.

“Careful, it could still be dangerous.” He said.

“The Hoover cord, you’re joking right?” Jess said, bemused at the Doctor’s reaction.

“I... I hope...” The Doctor muttered before pulling the white sheet back over Suzanne’s face and jumping to his feet. “Someone and something must have done this for a reason.” He said, clapping his hands together and closing down the telescopic rod.

“Well, that’s why we called you.” Morris said. “We hoped that you’d be able to help us here.”

The Doctor was pacing back and forth at the end of the kitchen, pausing and tapping his fingers against the metal of the draining board gazing out into the garden beyond.

“Doctor?” Tom asked, stepping into the kitchen from the doorway.

“Tom, yes,” the Doctor suddenly cried, spinning on the spot. “You and Captain Morris, Will, it is Will, isn’t it? Could you and Will nip out into the garden and have a quick scout around for me, mainly near the window. Jess, you and I are going to have to have a chat with Sir Daniel. Find out as much as we can. I’ve not got a very good feeling about this.”

*

Morris strode about the large garden and sighed. He could see the Doctor sat inside the living room, Corporal Loding behind him, perched on the edge of a chair, his hands clasped on his knees as he looked intently towards Sir Daniel. The girl, Jess, was sat opposite the Doctor, beside Ashfield, looking at him with a sympathetic look on her face. He’d not met the man before, or yet, and was frankly puzzled as to why he was stood outside looking round a garden for clues. No doubt the police had done it already. Still, at least it was a nice, sunny September morning.

He glanced across at the Doctor’s other companion; Tom. He’d taken his coat off, muttering about a bad choice of clothes and was now in his shirt sleeves, rolled up to his elbows, and his waistcoat now flapped open. Tom was painstakingly looking around the area outside the kitchen window, paying particular attention to the flowerbed just outside.

Glancing back into the living room, Morris saw the Doctor get to his feet and shake Sir Daniel by the hand, followed by Jess and Loding. Moments later, the Doctor bounded into the garden and stopped in between Morris and Tom.

“Tom, Will, have you found anything?” He asked the light tone in his voice and smile on his face. Only the flashes in his eyes hinted that things may be more serious that he was letting on.

“Not a thing,” Morris replied with a sigh. “There’s nothing out here, and if there was, surely the Police would have spotted it.”

“Over here,” Tom said, stepping back from the flower bed. “A set of foot prints in the soil here.”

“Foot prints?” The Doctor and Morris repeated together, turning to Tom the latter confused and the former smiling.

“Well done Tom.” The Doctor smiled, almost immediately beside his young friend.

“But they could be anyone’s” Morris suggested, walking over.

“Are you always so pessimistic, Captain?” The Doctor asked, turning to face Morris before crouching down beside the begonias in the flower bed. “No, these foot prints are next to each other facing the window, hinting that someone was stood here looking in. The depth of them hints at someone about six foot tall and about a hundred and eighty pounds, stood still. That could be the reason that poor Suzanne was reaching towards the window, possibly for help.”

“And you said you’re not a detective.” Morris said.

“Well, I did give Sir Arthur a few pointers, I must admit,” the Doctor smiled looking up at Morris before getting up to his feet. “No, we need a picture of the man who was stood here; he could be a valuable witness.”

“Or the one behind it all?” Tom suggested grimly.

“Either way,” the Doctor smiled, laying a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “He could be just the chap we need. We just need to find out if the CCTV caught him or any of the neighbours saw someone lurking outside.”

“Police work?” Morris raised an eyebrow at the Doctor.

“You are a Military Investigation team.” The Doctor retorted. “It can’t all be done like the relief of Mafeking.”

“All I meant was, Sir, the police may have already done that.”

“Of course,” the Doctor cried suddenly, taking Morris by surprise as the Time Lord spun round and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Brilliant idea, Will! Why didn’t I think of that?”

Taken aback by the Doctor’s outburst, Morris looked blankly, blinking and his mouth moving as though to say something but no words came out. Before he could compose himself enough to speak again, the Doctor was energetically moving about a small area of the garden.

“Right then, Will, you and Tom have a chat with the police, see if the neighbours saw anything, I’ll get Jess and Corporal Loding to see if the house security systems spotted anything, I’ve seen a couple of CCTV cameras outside already. I want to have another look around the kitchen, in particular the vacuum cleaner.”

“You said there weren’t any finger prints.” Tom said.

“It’s not the presence of finger prints I’m looking for.” The Doctor said, spinning to face Tom before turning back to face Morris. “If I’m right, and I very much hope that I’m not, then you did the right thing in calling me back, Will.”

With that, the Doctor breezed past Morris and Tom and disappeared back into the house. Turning and following the Doctor with his eyes, Morris whipped his cap off his head and scratched the top of his head.

“How the devil do you keep up with that man?” He asked, looking across at Tom.

“You just kinda get used to it.” He shrugged back, smiling.

*

Jess looked around the inside of the van. She’d seen things like this in spy and cop shows and films; an incongruous looking plain van, yet the inside was filled with monitoring equipment, televisions screens, microphones, headsets and a plethora of things that she had no idea what they were for.

The Doctor had rushed in from the garden and found both Corporal Loding, who was now sat beside Jess, and herself in the hallway, just outside the kitchen and asked them to have a look through all the CCTV and security footage that the police had accumulated already about the murder. When Jess had asked for an idea of what it was they were looking for, all that the Doctor had said was;
“Anything out of the ordinary.”

Corporal Loding seemed to take that in her stride, and nodded turning away. Jess however, help a small spark of doubt. After the things she’d seen in the past few months, she dreaded to think what would be out of the ordinary for her these days. She quickly washed that thought away with the reminder that she was on Earth in her own time. At least, she hoped that the Doctor had meant anything that would look out of the ordinary to this time and place.

Jess wondered if any of the neighbours would have seen anything, considering the size of the houses and how far apart they were spread. Musing to herself, she wondered how much one of these houses would cost. A hell of a lot was her guess. They were large houses and they seemed to be very up on security. Especially as she and Corporal Loding were presented with a large stack of footage just from the Ashfield’s house.

Wondering why the Doctor was so obsessed with the vacuum cleaner and why he’d spent most of the journey to the murder scene pressing Morris about the choices of murder weapons that had been used, Jess yawned and leaned back to look out of the van. She could see Tom and Captain Morris stood a little way down the road talking to a police inspector and sergeant. She almost smiled to herself before remembering the scenario she was in, but she couldn’t help it; she felt as though she were in The Bill, or something even more exclusive.

Fanning herself with her hand, she regretted her choice of clothes. Her coat was still lying over the banister at the bottom of Sir Daniels stairs. She probably should have left it back at UNIT HQ. Mentally, she made a note to change into more suitable clothes when she got back to UNIT and the TARDIS.

She’d lost track of how long they’d been sat staring at the monitor screens before them, their flicking black and white images the only light source inside the van. Not that it was too dark, light streamed in through the open back door. It suddenly struck her that she had no idea what the date was. It had to be around her own time, at least, going from the registration plates she’d seen, and sometime after the Derbyshire affair, as Corporal Loding had mentioned earlier.

“What’s the date?” She asked, exactly the same time that her eyes fell on the date stamp on the corner of one of the video screens before her. “Never mind, I’ve seen it.” She added quickly, rolling her eyes at her own folly.

“Is it true then?” Loding asked, turning her head to look at Jess. “All the stories. The Doctor and that police box travel through time and when he shows up all hell breaks loose?”

“Yes, we travel through time, but hell doesn’t always break loose.” Jess trailed off as she caught something out of the corner of her eye on one of the screens; a figure moving just to one edge. “What was that?”

Reaching for the controls, Loding rewound the video and zoomed into the blurred figure as best she could. It was a man, a bald man, but there was something odd about him. The two women leaned into the screen and squinted to try to see him clearer before recoiling in disbelief.

“What is that?” Loding asked.

“It... It looks,” Jess said slowly and carefully, “and this sounds stupid, but it looks like a shop mannequin.”

[Fitz Kreiner]

Jess and Loding stared at the small hazy monitor screen in disbelief. It couldn’t be a mannequin; that was just silly. Narrowing her eyes to see through the fuzz, Jess tried hard to make out the features of the bald man on the screen. It had to be the bad quality that was making him look like a mannequin; either that or it was a mask. Yes, that was it, he was wearing a mask.

“It can’t be.” Loding said with her eyes still fixed onto the screen before her.

“It’s a mask, it must be.” Jess said softly. “The quality is awful. That’s why it looks like that.”

“It’s not the quality.” Both Jess and Loding visibly jumped at the sound of the voice. Turning, they saw the silhouette of the Doctor framed in the van doorway. “Nor is it a mask. It’s just what I’d feared. The vacuum flex raised my suspicions, this has confirmed it.”

Jess’s heart was thumping hard in her chest. “You mean it is a shop mannequin; a dummy?”

The Doctor nodded slowly, his curls of hair bobbing as he did so. “Although more accurately; it’s an Auton.”

“Auton?” Jess and Loding both chorused the latter with a small hint of recognition in her voice.

The Doctor nodded again and opened his mouth to say something. Seemingly to think different of it, he paused and then jumped down from the edge of the van and disappeared from sight.

“Now hang on a minute.” Jess shouted after the Time Lord, stumbling over the swivel chair she was sat on, which was bolted to the floor of the van. “Hang on,” she repeated jumping down and looking around. The Time Lord was nowhere in sight.

“How does he do that?” Loding asked, jumping down behind Jess.

“Your guess is as good as mine, and I travel with him.” Jess shrugged.

The Doctor suddenly reappeared, walking swiftly from the Ashfield’s house, both Tom and Jess’s coats slung over his arm, the vacuum cleaner under his other, the flex snaking behind him, the plug clattering and bouncing along after, like a small and excitable plastic pet. Jess looked at the bizarre sight in some amusement; she was still perplexed as to his fixation with the vacuum cleaner of all things.

“Tom! Will!” The Doctor shouted up to the two men who were still talking to the police inspector. Ending their conversation, the two men jogged over and drawing near, the Doctor threw the two coats at Tom, who caught them, bemused. “We need to head back to HQ immediately, I’d rather talk about all this there than in public. Corporal, could you pop this vacuum cleaner in the jeep and round your chaps up and follow us back, as quick as you can.”

Putting the vacuum cleaner on the road, the Doctor turned and dashed to the car and within seconds was sat in the driving seat and the engine roared to life. Exchanging bemused and confused looks, Jess and Tom both made off to the car, recognising the tome of the Doctors voice and the urgency of his manner. Following them, Morris flung himself into the passenger seat as the Doctor set off. Watching them go, Loding eventually stooped and cautiously picked up the vacuum cleaner as though it were a bomb and laid it in the back of the jeep.

*

Jess sat back on the swivel chair in what looked like a meeting room in UNIT HQ with Tom, Sergeant Lovatt and Corporal Loding. The building itself looked remarkably ordinary, just outside the Camden Market area of London. There were parts of her that were itching to go out round Camden Market and shop ‘til she was ready to drop, and then hit some pubs. It all seemed so normal after so long.

However, the Doctor’s urgency held her from taking this up. There was some kind of alien presence here, and she found that it excited her in the same way it had when she first stumbled into the TARDIS. Plus, she got to save the world. Not many people could say that about themselves.

The sound of the door opening brought her back to Earth, and she looked up as the Doctor entered, followed by Captain Morris. The two had been shut away making long and urgent telephone calls for the past hour, since they had got back. It had given her the chance to change into cooler clothes.

“What is it we’re dealing with?” Tom asked, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hands.

The Doctor sat down at the table and looked at the faces gathered round looking at him awaiting explanation. “I had my suspicions at first and the vacuum cleaner and footage from the Ashfield’s CCTV have proved it. The Nestene’s are back. They’re a telepathic race who has a natural affinity for plastic, and it’s these things that the Nestene Consciousness can manipulate into its foot soldiers; the Autons. And they do look like shop window dummies.”

Jess caught the Doctor’s eye as he said that and he shot her a small smile and she realised that he was saying that to tell her that she hadn’t gone mad. She took a look around the table; Tom was staring intently at the Doctor, taking in every word. Loding and Lovatt’s eyes were wide as if they suddenly realised where they’d heard the word ‘Auton’ before. She turned back to the Doctor as the Time Lord continued.

“They had a couple of gambits during the seventies to take over the Earth, fortunately I was here at the time and with an earlier UNIT, and we were able to fend them off. There was one surviving Nestene Energy Unit and that was secured in the C19 Vault, and we’ve phoned up to check and it’s gone missing. It looks like they’re back, and are already here and well established this time. As Captain Morris has said, these murders have being occurring for a while, and I would say that the Nestene’s were here before they started as well. There’s no way of telling where they may be right now, but I would suggest we start with the plastics factories.”

“I don’t think we’ve enough men to raid all the plastic factories in London, let alone the country.” Lovatt said.

“I’m not talking about raids.” The Doctor said quickly holding his hands up. “I think the best thing we can do right now is to plan, and plan very quickly.”

“I’ve brought in all the files that we’ve got on the Nestene’s and Auton’s,” Morris said, spreading out the files before him. “Some of these are nearly thirty years old now but it could give us an insight to their MO.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Tom cut in, holding his hand up. “I thought you said earlier that we weren’t police. Shouldn’t we be out there and doing something practical?”

“In good time, Tom.” The Doctor said. “I want you and Jess to have a look into the London plastic factories first. The Nestene’s must be out there somewhere near, so I want you to have a look for any drastic changes in the factories within the last six months.”

“Oh, so not too difficult or laborious task then?” Tom muttered, leaning back and folding his arms.

“Not that bad actually.” Morris said, opening one of the files in front of him. “We’re rather organised here at UNIT these days; I’ve got a list already typed up for you. There aren’t as many factories as Lovatt suggested; we just don’t have the man power at the moment. We’d need to request the men for the raids, which would take the time we don’t have.”

“Well, at least that’s a start.” Tom said, some brightness returning to his eyes, as Morris slid the sheet of paper across the table towards him. Looking across and Jess, he nodded and the two got to their feet.

“There should be a computer set up in the lab with internet access.” Morris said as the Jess made her way round the table to the door. “And if you need to call out, calling from here offers little limits. Just ask if you need any help.”

“Thanks.” Jess smiled, looking over at the Doctor who smiled and slightly nodded his head to her, his eyes sparkling, before following Tom out of the room and closing the door behind her.

“So how do we kill a plastic dummy then?” Loding asked.

“Ah, yes, that’s the thing.” The Doctor said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Bullets won’t stop them, that’s the tricky thing. If you had enough, you might be able to blast them to pieces, but they’d kill you before that could happen.”

“Plastic?” Lovatt asked, leaning forward. “What about flame throwers? I know one thing about plastic, it melts, and I can’t see these Auton things being much cop in a fight if they’re a molten puddle.”

“See to that, will you Corporal?” Morris said, turning to Loding, who got to her feet, saluted and left the room.

“I really hope it won’t come to open conflict.” The Doctor sighed.

“If it comes to it, I want to cut down the loss of life myself, sir.” Morris said.

“And enough with the ‘Sir’,” the Doctor said. “No air’s and graces, just Doctor. How many more times must I tell you?”

*

Jess picked up the plastic cup beside her and sipped at the tea within. The lab was rather interesting to rummage about in, never mind the computer and task she and Tom had accepted from the Doctor, she’d still had to investigate. Now she was sat next to a large window that looked down onto the main Camden road. She’d grown tired of staring at a computer screen, rolling through pages of information about the plastics factories of London. A lot of the information meant absolutely nothing to her, she had to admit.

Deciding to take a break, she stood up and leant on the windowsill and looked down into the streets below. Shoppers and cars bustled back and forth on the crowded streets, and the sound of music wafted up above the noise of the traffic and busy pedestrians. Street performers were dotted about the streets; living statues, stilt walkers and jugglers amongst other things. She had to admit that she didn’t remember there being so many of them about last time she was in London, but it was some time ago.

She found herself strangely entranced by the crowds down below and she again found herself reflecting on how long it had been since she had seen ordinary life like this. It almost seemed strange now, yet she had seen many scenes like it throughout time and space in her time with the Doctor.

“Why d’ya think the Doctor was so fascinated by that Hoover?” She asked Tom, turning to face him and leaning against the window sill. The young Time Lord was still sat, absorbed with the contents of the computer screen.

“That, erm, Suzanne was it? Suzanne was strangled with the plastic cord of it. And he said that these Nestene’s can animate plastic.” Tom said, leaning back in the chair and stretching.

“Oh yeah.” Jess mused and took another sip before carefully removing the cup from her lips and placing it on the desk and backing slowly away from it.

“I wouldn’t worry about that” Tom chuckled. “It’s a cup; it’s not going to strangle you.”

“Well, you never know.” Jess said, sitting back down before pulling her hand away from the mouse. “Ah, how are we going to manage this without using plastic? It’s everywhere?”

“I think that’s why we’re doing this, so we can find out which company has been taken over and what they produce, which should narrow the field down a little.” Tom said, turning back to the computer.

“Well, somewhere that makes Hoovers then, surely?” Jess spun to face the computer. “What about Hoover themselves?”

“There isn’t one around here, and besides, the vacuum cleaner wasn’t a Hoover. It seems an awful lot of companies make an awful lot of different things.” Tom sighed. “It looks like my first impression of a needle in a haystack could have been right.”

“I take it you’ve had no luck either.” She said, spinning back and forth on the chair.

“It’s not as though I really know exactly what I’m looking for. Abnormalities can only cover so much. I think we could do with the Doctor here really.”

As if to answer his call, the lab door burst open and the Doctor breezed in and seemingly effortlessly navigated his way over towards Tom and Jess.

“How have you done?” He asked, smiling.

“Not good, not good at all.” Tom replied, looking up weary eyed.

“It’s not exactly very understandable, all this techno-babble and corporation speak.” Jess said. “We don’t exactly know exactly what it is that we’re looking for. No one has started changing what they make or anything like that.”

“What about staffing changes, switching to automation, those sorts of things?” The Doctor asked, looking at the screen Tom was staring at.

“You really think that these companies would advertise that they’ve just sacked loads of people?” Tom asked, incredulously. “It’s not exactly a huge selling point; ‘We’ve just let go hundreds of our workers, come to us for all your plastic needs!’”

Both Tom and Jess looked up at the Doctor after silence descended over the lab. He hadn’t responded to Tom’s flippant comment as he normally did. Instead he was staring at the list of plastics factories that Morris had given them.

“Have you looked at this list?” The Doctor asked. “Read the names?”

“Well, yeah, we’ve searched for them online.” Jess protested looking up as Captain Morris walked into the lab.

“Captain, did you pay attention to the names on this list when you compiled it?” The Doctor asked, spinning to face Morris, the list in his hand.

“What do you mean?” Morris asked, as the Doctor whipped the list down onto the desk before the Captain.

Getting to their feet and crossing to the table, Jess and Tom joined the Doctor, their curiosity spilling out, and looked at the name on the list he was pointing to.

“Les Plastiques Maîtrisent,” the Doctor read aloud. “Does nobody here speak French? Or even follow the UNIT codes that were laid down?”

“You’ll have to indulge us Doctor, we don’t know the UNIT codes.” Jess said.

“Les Plastiques Maîtrisent, it’s French for ‘The Plastics Master’.” The Doctor explained.

“Oh, I checked on that one, I remember it was a funny spelling.” Jess admitted. “It’s owned by someone called Lemaître, or something like that. It’s a French company.”

“Lemaitre!” The Doctor slammed his hand down on the desk as he bellowed the word, making everyone in the lab jump. “Security protocol A1 was meant to be for all UNIT operatives to look for the Master under all circumstances.”

“Master?” Tom asked, already backed away from the Doctor’s outburst.

“I thought he was dead, mid seventies.” Morris said, visibly taken aback. “There’s been nothing on the UNIT files of him since then.”

“He’s a Time Lord, he left Earth. After my exile here ended, he seemed to get bored with it.” The Doctor explained

“Hang on, slow down.” Jess said. “Have I missed something here?”

“Yeah, where did the Master come into it?” Tom added.

“Lemaître,” the Doctor said slowly, “is French for Master.”

[Fitz Kreiner]

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.

[Fitz Kreiner]

Jess walked up from Camden Lock into the bustling high street, laden with large bags. She still wasn’t quite sure what to make of the Doctor’s passing her off for a shopping trip while Tom, Morris and himself went off to investigate the plastic factory. Still, if he was suggesting that she could take a bit of a break; things couldn’t have been as serious as they had been in the past. Either way, she was glad for this break. She wasn’t normally much of a shopper, but she was rather enjoying herself she had to admit. No doubt she’d be back in the thick of it as soon as she found herself back at UNIT HQ.

“Jess?”

At first, Jess didn’t take any notice of the voice. No one could have known she was in the area or even her name. She’d seen nothing but anonymous faces in the two hours she’d been wandering about. She’d made sure to keep a wide berth of any mannequin she’d seen. She could still hear the Doctors comments about the Nestene and Autons, she didn’t want to take any chances, even if she was being paranoid.

“Jess? It is you!”

Jess’s eyes widened as she realised someone was shouting to her. Her recognition of the voice suddenly clicked into place and she turned round, scanning the crowd for the source. Her eyes fell on a shape squeezing through the late afternoon crowd towards her.

“My Gods, it is you, I thought you were meant to be in America by now?”

Jess recognised the shape of Kelly, her housemate from Lincoln, her electric blue long hair making her stand out from the crowd. Kelly was looking at Jess incredulously as though not really believing that Jess was stood there.

“I wondered why I hadn’t had a postcard. You given up your idea of travelling?”

Having been initially taken aback, Jess composed herself. “Not quite. I just changed my mind about how I was doing it.” She replied, getting jostled by people walking past. “Look, I’m meeting back up with my friends in about two hours, but I’ve got time for a drink if you have?”

Kelly smiled and agreed. “The Devonshire is just round the corner.” She said. “You always said you wanted to go there. Then you can tell me all your goss.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jess managed, shifting unsure about what to say about her change in circumstances.

Reactions that she had acquired and toned since she had been travelling with the Doctor suddenly kicked in as she heard Kelly cry out, before stifling the scream. Spinning round to look for the cause of the cry, Jess saw Kelly recoiling in shock, her hand to her chest, from a street performer, who had suddenly appeared beside them. Although she couldn’t say she blamed her, he did look rather creepy with thick white makeup and black eyes, with a clown’s teardrop in the corner of one eye. The man even seemed to be wearing full eye black contact lenses, lending him a dead blank eyed quality.

He was stood staring at the two girls, his head cocking from one side to another before he jerkily moved his arms in a mime artist style. He was wearing almost Middle Eastern clothing with a black pointed turban on his head, elaborately decorated in gold and silver and red, black and clear glass beads.

“Oh Gods, he gave me a start.” Kelly laughed looking over to Jess before looking back at the performer, who was now giving a broken and jerky wave to them both.

“Creepy things,” Jess shuddered, pulling Kelly around the performer, who turned on the spot, still waving. “I don’t trust them.”

“Oh come on.” Kelly replied giggling. “They’re just a bit of harmless fun.”

“Still, they’re freaky. Like those living statue guys.” Jess pointed to one of the street performers stood stock still on a plinth in the street farther up the road. “Can we cross?”

“Wow, you’re really jittery hun, you ok?” Kelly asked, pausing and looking at Jess.

“Yeah.” Jess nodded. “Just these street performers freak me out a little. What’s with them anyway?”

“Where’ve you been?” Kelly asked as the two turned the corner. “Didn’t you hear about that thing up north, Derbyshire was it? They had some sort of emergency about something and evacuated everyone.”

“Oh yeah, I seem to remember hearing something about that.” Jess smiled to herself.

*

The Master strode purposefully across the factory floor towards a sealed door, his hands clasped behind his back. Following in his wake, several paces behind him were Andrea Rogers and Lemaitre. Passing the machines, none of the workers even looked up as the trio passed them. Reaching the far side of the factory floor, the Master stopped in front of a pair of double doors with large warning and security notices adorning them. Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, he produced a key attached to a silver chain which remained securely fastened to his jacket.

Popping the key back into his pocket, the Master held the door open for Andrea and then followed her through, Lemaitre bringing up the rear and closing the door behind him. Reaching out, the Master flicked on the light switch and the halogen bulbs clunked to life flooding the security area with a harsh white light.

Crossing to a large chamber with a ridged metal arch over the top, the Master peered in through the small glass window and nodded, before walking towards a metal stairwell. Peering through the glass, Lemaitre saw a large bubbling vat of molten plastic. Four large metal struts stuck out of the glutinous material with thick electric cables snaking round them. Lemaitre took a jump back when a large bubble swelled and then popped in the vat.

Turning, he followed the Master and Andrea up the stairs into the small office. There was already a figure stood in there, a bald figure wearing a maroon boiler suit and beige scarf around its neck. Several ornate looking Venetian masks adorned one of the walls.

“You failed, didn’t you; killed the wrong person.” The Master said to the Auton, not even looking at the mannequin as he crossed to a control panel. As if in reply, the Auton’s head bowed and it stepped backwards into a corner. Turning, the Master glared at the plastic figure. “Not that it matters, deactivate.”

“Not that it matters? It brought the Doctor round here snooping?” Lemaitre said.

“The Doctor would have come round here soon enough.” The Master purred as he reached up and picked one of the masks off the wall. “It is of no coincidence that I chose you and your factory for this operation. The Doctor’s biggest downfall is his curiosity, and it will be peaked. That is why I set up, if you will, a dummy company.”

Andrea turned from the observation window overlooking the security area and several inert Auton’s laying on work benches, chuckling at the Master’s pun. “And when he does, we will know about it.” She said, reaching out and switching on a monitor.

The small black and white screen flickered to life showing a small cell containing a prone body lying on a bench, kept so that the facsimile could be maintained if needs be. Lemaitre peered closer at the uniformed figure.

“A private?”

“A Private James Baxter.” Andrea said switching the monitor off.

“He came snooping around the security area.” The Master said, stroking his fingers over the smooth, brightly coloured mask he was holding before holding it out to Lemaitre. “What do you make of the craftsmanship?”

“Wonderful,” Lemaitre said studying the smooth surface carefully. “And from one piece of moulded plastic?”

“A very special moulded plastic,” the Master confirmed, reaching out and taking the Mask from Lemaitre. Placing it on top of an instrument panel, he turned to Andrea and clapped his hands together. “My dear Miss Rogers, would you mind popping into the factory and bringing me a volunteer.”

“Of course, Master.” She replied turning and walking quickly down the stairs.

“You see,” the Master continued, turning back to the instrument panel and inserting the silver key into a slot on it. “The masks are by way of a means to an end to help in the grand plan, as our willing volunteer will soon prove.”

The Master turned the key in the panel and a pair of metallic doors slid open on a small metal cabinet next to the instrument panel. Thick tubes and power cables snaked from the top of it into the roof of the office and away to the machines and vats below. As the doors slid open they revealed a translucent polyhedron which pulsed with a blue light, attached to many cables which snaked from both the top and bottom of the cabinet.

Reaching into the cabinet, the Master pulled out a cable that snaked from the globe with a loose end. Picking up the mask, he attached the cable and threw a switch. The pulsing light in the globe increased in speed before dying down as the Master turned the switch back to its original position and placed the cable back in the cabinet.

“Soon you will see what these masks will be useful for.” The Master said, turning to Lemaitre and holding the mask between his thumb and forefinger. “We just need to test them before we distribute them in the morning for next week.”

As if on cue, Andrea returned to the office with a worker from the factory in tow. He was ruddy faced and had his ear protectors around his neck.

“You wanted to see me, Monsieur, Mr Rogers?” he asked stepping into the office and looking around the security area in bemusement.

“Yes, thank you for coming.” The Master smiled, turning to face the man. “We just want you to test this for us before we start a mass production and distribution in the morning.”

“Certainly, sir.” The workman said taking the mask from the Master.

“It’s a special new technique we’ve developed that should make it softer and more comfortable against your skin, and mould better to your face.” The Master said, stepping back and folding his hands behind his back.

“A mask?” the workman replied, tapping at the face of it with his bitten down finger nail, making a dull clunking noise. “Feels pretty rigid to me.”

“Trust me,” the Master said holding his hand out to the workman. “Try it on for me.”

Nodding, the man pulled the mask up to his face and stretched the cotton covered elastic strap over his head. After several seconds he nodded. “It really is comfortable.” His muffled voice came from behind the grinning mouth of the mask.

“That was the desired effect we were going for.” Andrea said, moving over to stand beside the Master. “But because they’re for the upcoming festivities, we need to run a few tests.”

“Quite, Miss Rogers,” the Master confirmed. “People are to be wearing our masks for some time, so if you would oblige me, and run up and down the stairs a couple of times.”

The workman looked at the Master, his confused eyes staring out of the black ringed eye holes in the mask.

“If you please?” The Master asked, indicating to the door.

Turning, the workman jogged down the stairs before turning round and jogging back up. Reaching the top, he turned and repeated the motion two more times before coming to a stop, panting in the doorway.

“It’s a bit hard to breathe through,” he panted. “Maybe make a hole for the mouth and the nose holes a little larger. And it makes you sweat like hell.”

“Splendid.” The Master smiled, flicking a switch on the panel beside him before turning to face Lemaitre. “And now you shall see.”

Lemaitre looked at the workman, whose confused eyes were still staring out of the eye holes of the mask as he reached up to remove it. As Lemaitre watched, the surface of the mast seemed to become shiny, as though it were wet. Then, the colours, which were previously sharply defined, seemed to merge together and the workman’s eyes turned from confusion to panic through the holes.

“What is this?” he cried through the softening plastic.

The Master smiled and laid his hand softly on Andrea’s shoulder as he observed the scene before him. The workman was reaching up and clawing at the edge of the mask, trying desperately to prise the plastic covering from his face. The edges of the plastic were melting and attaching to the man’s ruddy flesh. The colours were fast running together and merging into a glutinous mess covering his face.

Panic flooding out through his bulging eyes, the workman tried to open his mouth to scream, but found that the plastic was melding to his face and keeping his mouth and jaw clamped shut. Forcing himself, he managed to open his mouth slightly to scream. The sound died in his throat as he tried to force air out of his mouth and it hit the viscous molten plastic that started to creep in. His eyes widened farther as the realisation that he was suffocating filled his mind.

Lemaitre watched in morbid fascination as thick bubbles started to form around the now indistinct mouth and nose area of the horrific looking mess that once was a face. As he watched, almost as quickly as it had started, the sheen to the mask seemed to fade and it became the satin covering of plastic it had been before the grotesque experiment. Now a twisted and gruesome parody of a mask, the workman’s eyes almost bulged out of both their sockets and the eye holes in the mask, his chest heaving as he struggled desperately for his last breath.

“A most successful test, don’t you think, Monsieur Lemaitre?” The Master asked, turning his head to look at the awestruck Frenchman. Lemaitre turned from the dying man to look at the Master before turning back to watch the workman’s last seconds of life. Dropping to his knees, one hand still clawing at the grasping and suffocating mask, the other outstretched for help, his bulging eyes finally rolled back into his sockets and he toppled over backwards, dead. Rushing to his side, Lemaitre touched the man’s neck and then looked up at the Master.

“Dead,” he reported. “Bon, that was a very successful demonstration. I shall arrange for the disposal of the body.”

“I believe the furnaces are still lit.” The Master said coolly turning back to the instrument panel and placing his hands on it and looked out to the secured area below. “A very successful test, I want these masks put into mass production immediately so that shipping can begin at dawn.”

“Will that be possible, Master?” Andrea asked, joining him at his side.

“If our human workers aren’t able, we still have the Autons. Don’t forget my dear,” he turned and placed his hand on her shoulder again, “they don’t require sleep and are very efficient.” Casting a glance over his shoulder and the frozen Auton in the corner, he added; “For the most part.”

“How did it happen?” Lemaitre asked.

“I added a code from the Energy Unit,” the Master said, turning to face the man. “Activated by perspiration and carbon dioxide from the lungs. We can code in a sequence for the masks to activate as soon as I send the activation signal, so there are no premature deaths. Imagine it happening to the tens of thousands of revellers during the festivities next week. The country will be plunged into chaos, and amid that chaos, the Autons will strike. Once that happens, I shall activate the facsimiles and we shall take over.”

[Fitz Kreiner]

“You see, Doctor,” Morris said, turning in the passenger seat to look into the back of the car. “We scouted the factory first and thoroughly investigated it. Everything Lemaitre said was what we uncovered ourselves. Like I said; we’re not amateurs.”

“Yes, you seemed to have done some research. I could imagine that Monsieur Lemaitre could have done the same.” The Doctor replied.

“But what you’ve told me of this Master, Lemaitre is far too young to be him.” Morris protested.

“He also didn’t give out any of the usual telepathic traces that a Time Lord would.” The Doctor agreed turning to Tom. “What did you find?”

“Nothing out of the usual.” Tom shrugged. “I looked for everything you told me to look for, and saw none of it. Met a chap called Bernard Rogers, that secretary’s uncle; he seemed a nice old chap.”

“And did you try as I suggested?”

Tom nodded. “Tried all the mental tricks you showed me, and got nothing, anywhere in the factory. All the stuff was normal, I checked their products. The dummies make up very little of their production, I checked, they’re metal and plastic, like crash test dummies. I’m beginning to think this was just a coincidence.”

“I still don’t know,” the Doctor said. “It could still all be hidden somewhere there.”

“Look, even if they are up to something, we’ll know about it.” Morris added swiftly, causing the Doctor and Tom to look at him sharply. “I suppose I’d better tell you; I’ve arranged for some agents to be placed at the local factories through security companies, which is why we won’t have the manpower to commence raids.”

“What do you mean?” Tom asked.

“I’ve arranged for one man to be placed under cover as security for each of the factories in the local area tonight. One of the regular team for each factory is going to be replaced so my men can keep an eye out. If there is going to be any clandestine activities, I doubt it’d happen during the day.” Morris explained.

“And when were you planning on telling me this?” The Doctor asked looking at Morris.

“I didn’t want to compromise the operation.” Morris admitted shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

“Will, Will, Will, Will, Will,” the Doctor sighed shaking his head. “If you expect us to have a proper working relationship, and want me to work with you in the first place, you need to tell me these things. Fortunately it’s nothing too serious; you used a good bit of initiative there, well done. But from now on, you must let me know of all these things.”

Morris looked from the Doctor to Tom, unsure of how to react to the Doctors comments. He wasn’t sure whether the Time Lord was being sarcastic or not. He certainly hoped he wasn’t. Glancing back at the Time Lord, he saw he was sitting back in the seat, a worried look over his face. Morris glanced back at Tom, to see the young man shrug at him before putting his finger to his lips and indicating the Doctor with his head.

Nodding, Morris took the message; the Doctor had withdrawn into himself for a think. Most probably about the results that they had, or more likely hadn’t, got at Lemaitre’s factory. Turning back to face the front, he glanced across at Baxter, the driver, who was silently concentrating on the road. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the silent car, Morris glanced in the rear view mirror; Tom was staring out of the window, seemingly bored and the Doctor still seemed deep in thought. Reaching forwards, Morris grabbed the radio off the dashboard.

“Greyhound one to trap seven.” He said, repeating the call sign before static crackled through the speakers and a Sergeant Lovatt’s voice replied.

“Trap seven receiving Greyhound. Go ahead.”

“What’s the status on operation Trojan Horse?” He asked winding up the window as the car slowed as it entered traffic.

“All Myrmidons are in the horses, awaiting nightfall.” Lovatt’s tinny voice replied.

Scratching at his receding hair line, Morris raised the radio to his lips again. “Nightfall has come. Greyhound one out.” He said.

“Nightfall? Myrmidon?” Tom’s voice asked from the back seat. “Sounds like one of the bands Jess listens to.”

“Greek mythology.” The Doctor replied before Morris could answer. “Going from the title ‘Operation Trojan Horse’ being the spies in the security teams, the Myrmidons would refer to the spies and Nightfall, I would assume, be the keyword to start the operation and get the men out to the factories. After all, it was the Myrmidons who were inside the Trojan horse; and I should know, I was there.”

Morris looked dumbfounded at the Doctor, who merely smiled at him.

“Am I right, Will?” He asked.

“Spot on.” Morris managed. “Although hopefully it won’t make sense if someone was listening in. Not that that happens, but it’s best to err on the side of caution.”

*

The Master sat back in a high backed, leather upholstered chair in a wood panelled room. A couple of lights illuminated him in his corner as he sat reading a first edition of War and Peace, in the original Russian. A small table sat beside him, upon which sat a silver tray with a crystal decanter of the finest Napoleon brandy, from the Napoleonic Empire itself, and a glass containing some of the liquid.

Clamping the Cuban cigar he was smoking between his teeth, the Master flicked over a page and then picked up the brandy glass. Removing the cigar, he took a sip of the caramel coloured liquid before replacing the snifter glass back on the silver tray. Resting the book on his knees briefly, the Master closed his eyes and leant his head back, listening to the deep ticking of the Grandfather clock in the opposite corner, as the sound resonated round the room.

The sound of the door opening made the Master open his eyes and he looked up as Andrea Rogers entered.

“Night security will be here shortly.” She said stopping in the middle of the room and looking at him.

“Excellent,” the Master smiled.

Snapping the large book closed and placing it on the table beside the silver tray, the Master picked up a remote control. Pointing it at the far wall, he pressed a button and the wooden panels slid away, one behind the other, revealing a large collection of monitor screens, with the largest in the centre. The blue haze from the screens brightened the room considerably. Pressing another button, one of the smaller screens changed to the image of a road being driven along. The image turned as the facsimile turned and looked at Morris as he revealed his agents working in security companies around the London area.

“I wonder which our Myrmidon will be.” He purred as he got to his feet. “I trust you will be able to spot him my dear?”

“Of course,” Andrea replied turning to the Master. “I’ve made sure to keep a very close eye on the security staff.”

“Excellent,” the Master smiled again, placing his hand on Andrea’s shoulder. “I knew I could rely on you my dear.”

Smiling, Andrea walked round to the desk in the room and opened one of the drawers, removing a series of files containing personnel records. Sitting at the desk, she turned on the desk lap and started reading through the records as the Master stepped towards the screens. The sound of Toms voice asking a question filtered through.

“That Mr. Rowan fascinates me,” the Master said, raising a hand and waving a finger at the screen. “He has mental and telepathic capabilities far beyond what any human should have in this time. His abilities were almost Gallifreyan. In fact, I would go so far as to say that he is.”

Pausing, the Master raised the remote to the screens and flicked through one of them until a picture of Tom filled the screen, a still taken from the security cameras. Taking a step forwards, staring at the screen, the Master took some thoughtful puffs on his cigar. A rapping knock at the door made the Master spin.

“Come,” he barked, not turning from the screen.

Opening the door and silently entering, closing the door behind him, Lemaitre entered and stood silently just inside the room before speaking. “The admin. staff have now all gone home, Master.” He said finally.

Slowly, the Master turned to face Lemaitre. “Have the security staff arrived yet?”

“Yes, office and main gate security have arrived.” Lemaitre nodded.
Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, the Master retrieved the remote and pointed it at the screen, flicking through different images. The larger main screen split into two as the Master gained an image of the front desk and the front gate.

Getting up from where she was sat behind the desk, Andrea got to her feet and walked round to stand beside the Master and Lemaitre. Removing her glasses from her face, Andrea stepped forwards towards the screen, examining the faces as they moved about.

“That’s him,” she said, pointing to a blonde haired man.

“Our Myrmidon in the horse,” the Master purred as he stepped closer to the screen. “Well, we shall have to keep an eye on our Myrmidon visitor and make sure that he doesn’t wander into the restricted area.”

“And if he does?” Lemaitre asked.

“Well,” the Master said, turning from his screen and taking another puff of his cigar. “He shall have to be taken care of. We will have another pair of eyes and ears in the UNIT ranks.”

“Another facsimile, why not just copy him now?” Lemaitre asked.

“That would be a bad idea.” The Master replied. “We want to give the impression that this company is running normally and so we have to maintain the illusion of normality. That is why the Autons will remain unseen in the restricted area, working on the masks and other projects.”

“If we do anything out of the ordinary, it might alert him and he may make a report to UNIT.” Andrea said, turning to face Lemaitre, shooting a glance at the Master for confirmation of her statement.

“They won’t see through the Facsimile’s will they?” Lemaitre asked.

“The facsimiles are perfect replicas, down to characteristic and personality traits to memory prints.” The Master purred. “They are undetectable and indistinguishable from the real person.”

“Then, what do we do now?” Lemaitre asked, looking at the Master.

Seemingly ignoring the question, the Master walked over to his chair and picked the glass of brandy off the table and took a large sip before replacing the glass. Clamping his cigar between his teeth again, the Master turned to Lemaitre and indicated his chair.

“Please, Lemaitre, sit.” He said softly. Obediently, the Frenchman walked over to the chair and sat down. Moving to stand before him, the Master removed the cigar from his mouth, resting it on the silver tray and leant forwards, resting his hands on the arms of the chair and looking into Lemaitre’s face. “Now look into my eyes. You will hear only my voice and will obey me. You will obey, obey.”

“I will obey,” Lemaitre repeated.

Standing up straight, the Master stepped back and clicked his fingers. At the sound, Lemaitre got to his feet. “Master,” he said flatly, awaiting further instructions.

Turning the Master strode away from Lemaitre and towards the desk muttering. “Incompetent primitive. He’s lucky he’s vital to giving a normal outlook to the proceedings here otherwise he would have been destroyed long ago.”

“How long before the plan is completed?” Andrea asked, walking back to the desk and placing the files back in the drawer.

“All going well, my dear, another week. And the power and influence I promised will be ours.” The Master smiled placing his hand on Andrea’s cheek before turning back to face Lemaitre. “We should check on the other production line, but first we should get rid of this fool.”

Slowly, the Master walked back over to the frozen form of Lemaitre and glared at the Frenchman. Reaching round Lemaitre, he picked up his cigar and puffed on it thoughtfully before walking round to face him.

“Lemaitre. You will obey. You will leave the factory and return home. You shall return here for eight AM tomorrow morning, no earlier, no later. On your way out, you will inform the security guards that you are the last to leave. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Lemaitre flatly replied.

“The leave us,” the Master said, snapping his fingers and turning away as Lemaitre turned and left the room.

Crossing the room and closing the well concealed door, Lemaitre stepped into the reception area outside his own office and beside Andrea Rogers’ desk. Shaking his head as if to clear a fading memory, Lemaitre opened the door into his office and stepped in, collecting his briefcase from the desk and coat from the back of the door.

Locking his office door behind him, Lemaitre made to cross Andrea’s office outside his own, spotting the flashing light beside the power button to the computer monitor on Andrea’s desk. Reaching over and switching it off, he crossed to the doors to the admin. block and turned off the main lights before making his way down towards the reception area of the building.

Whistling La Marseillaise, Lemaitre walked down the stairs and out through the reception area, nodding to the security guards as he went. Crossing the car park, Lemaitre unlocked his 1993 MG RV8 and climbed in, throwing his brief case onto the passenger seat.

*

Unseen, from a reflective window on the uppermost floor of the office building, the Master watched through the darkened glass as Lemaitre drove out of the car park towards the main gate and the security guard fastened it afterwards. Smiling to himself and nodding he turned back into the office as Andrea turned off the desk lamp.

“Hadn’t we better check on the other factory now?” She asked.

“You’re quite right, my dear.” The Master replied crossing the room to the grandfather clock.

Fishing in his jacket pocket, the Master pulled out an inverted ankh shaped piece of metal, with dark dots positioned on one side, linked up with black lines, forming a rudimentary star chart. Holding the metal shape in front of him, he slipped it into an almost imperceptible slot on the clock. Twisting the key, the Master stepped back as the whole front of the clock swung open, revealing a yawning black chasm.

“After you, my dear,” he smiled at Andrea, indicating the dark doorway.

Walking across the room, Andrea turned off the office lights, and the lighting dimmed, lit only by the now dim light coming through the office window. Crossing back to the clock, Andrea ducked inside, followed by the Master, repositioning the front of the clock behind him. After several seconds, the room was filled by a wheezing and groaning sound, and the Masters’ TARDIS faded away.

[Fitz Kreiner]

Jess breathed a visible sigh of relief as the masked street performer left the pub. He had come in with a collection pot, collecting for a charity Jess hadn’t heard of, but she’d given him some loose change in her purse to get rid of him none the less. The masks were really freaking her out, they’d been everywhere. No one else seemed to be bothered by it though. Many people even jostled and cheered the man, some getting pictures taken with him. Although she had to admit; the costume the performer was wearing was stunning. Coupled with that bizarre mask, he probably wouldn’t have looked out of place somewhere out in space and time.

Space and time; that was another thing. So far she had managed to avoid all matters relating to that, when Kelly had steered the conversation towards her travelling. She’d managed to slip off comments about the drastic change of her hair length, but she knew she couldn’t lie to Kelly, she had to tell her something. Not that she hadn’t had a good time in catching up but she was itching to tell her the truth, about all she’d seen and experienced. Eventually she decided; it was time to tell the truth.

“You still haven’t said where you’ve been.” Kelly said, stepping in and asking the question before Jess managed to speak.

“It’s a bit complicated,” Jess began. “I’ve met a couple of people, a couple of friends, and we’ve been flitting about all over the place.”

“Where abouts? Britain, Europe, or what?” Kelly asked leaning forwards. “You’re being rather evasive about this.”

Jess sighed and paused thinking about what to say. She soon found that her mouth was moving and the words were coming out before she was aware of it. “A bit farther than that. It’s going to sound crazy, but I’m being totally honest; time and space.”

Kelly sat back, blinking incredulously. “Sorry, I thought you said time and space,” she laughed, her laughter dying down when she saw the deadpan look on Jess’s face. “You are joking aren’t you?”

“Didn’t you wonder why I never came back from town on my last day in the house?” Jess asked. “I stumbled upon this man called the Doctor just as he was leaving. We ended up in the forty first century where we met Tom, he travels with us too. I’ve seen things you couldn’t even imagine; aliens, spaceships, robots, cybernetic creatures, alien worlds. You said about that Derbyshire thing, I was there, with the Doctor and Tom. What’s been about six weeks for you has been nearly six months for me. I’m here now because the Doctor helps out this UN group called UNIT, so I’m kinda an unofficial secret agent or some such.”

Kelly stared at Jess for several seconds. She was aware of a telltale sign when her friend was joking, a glint in her eye and slight smile. “You’re serious aren’t you?"

Reaching into a pocket, Jess pulled out a small, credit card sized leather book and handed it to Kelly. Taking the book, Kelly saw it was an ID card for a United Nations organisation. A silver pressed logo was indented into one of the inside covers; a globe backed by what appeared to be wings. The globe had the acronym ‘UNIT’ round the top with the words ‘United Nations Intelligence Taskforce’ written below. On the other side was the actual ID, which had a digital image of Jess, as she was now, watermarked with the same symbol as on the other side of the card along with information such as her name and age.

“This is unreal.” She said eventually, her eyes widening. “What is this UNIT thing then? What do you do? Is it aliens?”

“Erm, kinda.” Jess admitted. “The Doctor told me it was set up to deal with ‘new and unusual threats to mankind’. Or something like that.”

“I can’t quite believe it. This is all like something out of Star Trek or Professor X!” Kelly exclaimed. “This Doctor, is he like that Professor guy?”

“Kel, this isn’t sci-fi, this is real life, and I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this.” Jess said leaning closer to her friend and speaking in hushed tones.

“Then why are you?”

“Because,” Jess paused. “Because I trust you. You’re my friend and I can’t lie to you.”

Kelly blushed slightly before regaining her composure. “So, this Doctor guy, and Tom, what are they like?”

Jess sighed and rolled her eyes. “Where to begin? They’re not human, but they look it.”

“No way!” Kelly said slowly, interrupting and her eyes widening.

“They’re from a race called Time Lords. They look just like us, but they’re super advanced, it’s the Doctors ship that travels through time and space. The Doctor is kinda like an intergalactic poet, rather Byronesque, all waist coats, cravats and frock coats with long wavy hair.”

“Sounds kinda cute.” Kelly smiled.”Older man as well, yeah?”

“Very,” Jess agreed. “Older than you could imagine; he’s over 1000 years old.” Jess almost laughed as she watched Kelly’s jaw drop.

“What about this other guy?” Kelly asked. “He over a millennium old as well?”

“No, in fact, he just walked in.” Jess said, looking over Kelly’s shoulder and peering at the door, waving.

Kelly turned to look at the figure that had just entered the pub and was now looking around. “Wowee!” She gasped turning back to Jess. “You lucky thing, he’s rather good looking. I’m starting to like the sound of this alien thing.”

Jess waved and hushed Kelly to silence as Tom spotted her and walked over.

“I’ve been looking all over Camden for you.” He said, grabbing a stool from a neighbouring table and pulling it up, sitting down and joining the two girls.

“Hi,” Kelly said, “You’re Tom, yeah?”

“Yes,” Tom replied as if noticing her for the first time. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Pulling a face, Kelly turned to Jess. “Tom, this is my friend Kelly, we used to live together,” she said as way of an introduction.

Suddenly smiling, Tom grinned at Kelly, “Hello there, so you have all the dirt on Jess here?”

“You could say that, although a lot of the stories involve me too.” Kelly smiled, brushing her hair behind her ear. “What’s say we grab a drink sometime and we tell those stories?”

Clearing her throat loudly, Jess cut in before Tom could reply and attracted a distained look from Kelly.

“I thought you were with the Doctor?” She asked.

“I was. We got back about an hour ago, as I said; I’ve been looking for you. We drew a blank at the factory.” Tom replied, turning to look at Jess.

Her eyes widening, Jess brought her arm up to look at her watch. It was seven fifteen. She’d completely lost track of time. She’d promised the Doctor she would be back at UNIT HQ by six. She hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with her; after all, it wasn’t every trip where she had the chance to catch up with an old friend. Swearing softly, she got to her feet.

“I lost track of time. We’d best get back.” Bending down, Jess started to collect up the bags she’d acquired, handing some over to Tom. “Could you help me?”

Nodding, Tom collected some of the bags from Jess, looking at them bemused before dismissing them. Grabbing the glass, Jess picked it up and downed the contents, putting the glass back on the table and turned to Kelly.

“Was great to see you again, Kel,” she said, smiling. “I’ll have to let you know when I’m back about and we should do it again.”

“I’m staying at my sister’s, just round the corner.” Kelly said, finishing her drink as well. “If you’re about later on we can meet back here.”

“Sounds good to me.” Jess smiled, shooting a glance at Tom, who was looking about the inside of the pub. “If you come back with us, I can grab you a phone number.”

Smiling, Kelly slipped her arm through Jess’s and the two girls walked to the door, followed by Tom.

*

The silence of the Rutilus Allec Plastics factory reception area was broken by an unearthly wheezing and groaning sound, echoing down the empty corridors and the cavernous front desk. Sitting up straight and looking around, Alex Phillips slowly got to his feet and looked round at his colleague, Jason Stretham.

“What the hell was that?” Alex asked as the sound died away.

“No idea.” Jason said, getting up and looking down one of the corridors that lead away from the reception and security area. “Think they’ve left one of the machines in the factory on?”

“They’ve never done that before.” Alex replied, looking round at Jason.

Jason had only been with the firm a day, and being put on the night shift of Rutilus Allec was the Gaffer’s way of breaking him in gently. It had fallen to Alex to show him the ropes. Fortunately, on the night shift, all they had to do was sit about drinking machine tea or coffee and occasionally chasing away the odd youth who broke through the fence and tried to spray graffiti on the walls. This strange sound was a new thing to Alex, though. He’d worked the night shift at this and several other factories and businesses and never heard any machinery like it.

“Looks like we could have some excitement your first night.” He winked at Jason.

“Break in? What’s the routine?” Jason asked.

“Dunno what it is yet mate.” Alex replied. “Keep an eye on them monitors, I’ll just quickly check the corridors.”

Nodding, Jason sat back down behind the desk, looking at the flickering black and white images on the monitors. Walking down the nearest corridor, where the sound seemed to have come from, Alex passed and completely ignored a Coke vending machine that hadn’t been there five minutes previously. Drawing a blank in the otherwise deserted corridor, Alex turned back.

“Anything on the cams?” He shouted down to Jason.

“Not a thing. It’s all quiet, and main gate haven’t seen anything.” Jason shouted back.

Scratching his head, Alex breathed out deeply. He had no idea what that noise was or where it came from. Walking back, he spotted the vending machine and put his hand in his pocket feeling the change inside.

“Fancy a drink?” He called out again, looking down the corridor to where he could just see the front desk.

Unseen by Alex and while his attention was taken elsewhere, the front of the vending machine opened and the Master stepped out, closing the front slightly behind him. The flicker of movement caught Alex’s eye and he spun back round, stumbling back by the sudden appearance of the shorter man.

“What-? Who the hell?” He started.

Without a word, and surprisingly quickly, the Master withdrew a small black tube from inside his jacket and pointed it at Alex. A look of pure malice washed over his eyes as the end of the tube glowed red. Crying out, Alex felt all his muscles contract in one swift and painful second and the world seemed to swiftly grow to a monstrous size before descending into blackness.

Hearing the cry, Jason stepped round the desk and instantly ducked back into cover upon seeing the sight before him; a bearded man in a dark suit was pointing a short stubby black tube at Alex, the end glowing red. Before his astonished eyes, Jason saw Alex’s body twisting and shrinking to the size of a child’s doll before laying still, a few wisps of smoke coming from the now tiny corpse. Peering round the corner of the desk, Jason saw the figure step over the tiny body, soon joined by a blonde woman, who seemed to emerge from a vending machine. Together, the two figures walked down the corridor and deeper into the factory.

Scrabbling in the inside pocket of his uniform jacket, Jason pulled out a small radio and hurriedly spoke into it.

“Greyhound thirteen to Trap Seven.”

“Go ahead greyhound.” Lodings’ tinny voice replied.

“At Rutilus Allec Plastics; have eyeball on the Master.” Jason reported.

*

“‘Ere, take a look at this clown,”

Gaz Pritchard, sniffed loudly before spitting the phlegm onto the pavement and then taking a puff on the joint he held. Turning back, Gaz passed it onto Dean who was stood behind him. Pulling his Burberry baseball cap lower over his eyes he strutted ahead taking a long swig out of the can of Strongbow he held, emptying it, before tossing the empty can into the street.

“Wha’s ‘e still doin’ out ‘ere?” Dean said, eyeing the living statue stood just down the street.

“There’s loadsa them, ain’t there? This celebration thing, innit?” Colleen Cooper said, dropping her cigarette butt on the ground.

Sniffing again, Gaz took the joint back from Dean and took a long drag and then passed it to Colleen. Looking at his two friends, Gaz grinned showing his yellowed and crooked teeth and walked up to the living statue. Looking back at Dean and Colleen, Gaz turned back to the performer and leant right into him and swore loudly into his face. Laughing, Colleen and Dean shouted to him, egging him on to do more.

“Just like them palace guards, ain’t ‘e?” Gaz said turning and laughing to his friends.

Unseen by Gaz, while he was turned to Colleen and Dean, the living statue moved, leaning down to peer closer at Gaz and froze again. Turning, Gaz physically jumped, crying out slightly at the new position of the living statue causing Colleen and Dean to laugh at his reaction.

“‘Ere, I thought these things didn’t move?” He said before turning back to the living statue. Taking a swipe, Gaz lashed out at the statue, his fist connecting with the side of his head. Recoiling, Gaz grabbed his hand back in pain, shaking it and swearing. “Bloody thing’s plastic or some nuts.” He said looking back to Colleen and Dean.

Taking the hint, the two stepped up to Gaz as he pushed hard at the living statue, which toppled from the plinth he was stood on. The three friends stood back confused as the living statue toppled without crumpling. Grouping round the fallen street performer, Gaz and Dean kicked hard in his stomach, causing him to roll over. In one swift motion, the performer rolled and got back onto his feet turning to face the small gang.

“‘Ang on, ‘e’s got no eyes, look at ‘im!” Dean shouted pointing at the blank white staring orbs behind the masks eye holes.

“What the-?” Gaz started, staring at the living statue as it straightened itself before them.

Slowly the street performer raised its arm, pointing it towards his would be attackers. Staring in disbelief, Gaz, Dean and Colleen stepped back as the living statues fingers dropped away and a short, black tube slid out from the hand. Colleen screamed, stepping back as there was a soft explosion from the short tube and Gaz’s smoking corpse collapsed to the ground. Staring at the scene for what seemed like forever, Dean and Colleen turned and fled.

Stepping forward, the Auton followed the two fleeing humans with its arm and fired its concealed weapon again, the blast hitting Dean in the back and sending his smoking body sprawling forwards into a crumpled heap. A third blast from the Auton caught Colleen in the back of her head, her beached hair singing as she dropped dead to the floor. Turning, the Auton’s fingers snapped back up, joining the rest of the hand, as it bent down and picked up the plinth it had been stood on before silently making its way down the empty street.

[Fitz Kreiner]

Constable Brian Haynes pulled the Panda car up alongside the road where the pedestrian was waving him down. The man seemed highly excited and had almost jumped into the road to flag them down. Stepping out of the driver’s side of the car and putting his hat on his head, he stepped near to the tramp, almost recoiling from the smell of bodily odour, tobacco and stale alcohol.

“What is it, sir?” He asked as Chris Mitchell walked round the front of the car to join them.

“Dahn there, guv.” The old man said pointing a shaking hand. His breath stank of alcohol and tobacco. “There... There... There... There’s free of ‘em.”

“Three of what, granddad?” Mitchell asked.

“Kids, free of ‘em.” The tramp said, grabbing Mitchells sleeve and starting to pull him down a small road between two buildings. There was another road just down there. “They’re dead guv. Someone’s killed ‘em.”

Haynes and Mitchell looked at each other before back to the tramp. The old man looked terrified. Terrified but excitable. The old man beckoned the two police officers, who broke into a run, following him. Arriving in the parallel street, Haynes and Mitchell skidded to a halt. The tramp arrived after them and pointed to the three corpses that lay on the ground.

“There they are guv. See, I wasn’t makin’ it up.” He said, squeezing between the two policemen and pointing to the corpses.

“Yeah, right granddad,” Mitchell said stepping towards the three bodies. “Just stay back out of the way will ya?”

“Right back, if y’don’t mind?” Haynes said looking around down the empty street and motioning the tramp back. Making sure that the old man was out of the way, he turned back to Mitchell, who was now crouched down and checking the pulses on two of the bodies. He looked up at Haynes and sadly shook his head.

“Dead, all of them,” he said. “And no more than eighteen each.”

Haynes walked over, sighing internally. He’d signed on for the overtime today, but it had been the day from hell. Firstly there was the affair with Sir Daniel Ashfield’s wife and the strange Army investigation team, and now, coming to the end of his mammoth shift, there was a triple murder to deal with. Looking down, he crouched beside the nearest body. The lad’s baseball cap lay several feet away, the peak of it all scorched. He could see no visible wound on the boy’s body, bloodstains or pools of blood on the street. The lad’s face was a picture of terror.

“Whadda’ya reckon?” Mitchell said looking over.

“No idea, mate,” Haynes replied shrugging. “Control should know about this. Pop back to the car and get out the tape, will ya? I’ll radio this in.”

“Right-oh,” Mitchell said nodding and getting to his feet.

Sighing aloud this time, Haynes got to his feet and looked about. Other than the tramp, who’d moved closer and was looking at the bodies, the street was empty. During the day, no doubt, it would have had people milling about, but now there was nothing about. Thinking he’d spotted a figure stood in the shadows, Haynes took a couple of steps towards him, about to speak, before realising it was an abandoned mannequin. Clipping his radio off his uniform, Haynes raised the plastic receiver to his lips and hit the call button.

“One three seven oh to control,” Haynes lifted the radio from his lips and listened for a reply.

Hearing nothing in reply, not even static, Haynes shook the radio and tried again. Still with no reply he passed the radio to his other hand, absently wiping what he took to be something sticky on his trouser leg. Sighing, he put the radio to his lips again and repeated the call signal. Haynes eyes widened in shock and his voice died in his throat as a thick liquid seemed to touch his lips. Trying to pull his hand and the radio away from his mouth, he found that the liquid was the melting case of the radio. Crying out in horror, molten plastic seeped into his mouth and up his nostrils cutting off his cry.

Turning, Haynes reached out in horror to the tramp with his free hand. Trying to wrench away his hand and the melting radio, Haynes found that the plastic was starting to fill his mouth, solidifying around his lips and nostrils, forming an airtight seal. Suddenly the realisation dawned that he was suffocating.

A grubby hand on his shoulder and another grabbing at his face told him the tramp was beside him, trying to help him move the deadly plastic from his face. In his oxygen deprived state, he barely heard the tramps cries for help. Either the tramp wasn’t shouting loud enough or his hearing was starting to go. He was starting to feel light-headed and his vision was starting to fade as he struggled for breath. His face turning blue and eyes bulging, Haynes could have been sure that he saw the mannequin on the side of the street walking towards him. It was the last thing he would ever see.

*

Chris Mitchell paused as he heard the tramp shouting something. He couldn’t make out the words, but he was sure about the tone of voice. Turning he ran back the way he’d come in time to see Haynes collapse onto the ground with what looked like the tramps hands around his throat. Shouting a warning to the tramp, Mitchell reached for his baton before spotting a dark figure moving swiftly towards the tramp.

Taking a step forwards, Mitchell removed his baton and with a flick extended the metal stick. It was then he noticed something strange about the figure; they were slim and seemed naked, with ebony skin that seemed to have a light sheen to it. Then he noticed that the face had no features.

“Stop right there.” Mitchell yelled stepping forwards holding his baton high.

The strange man didn’t respond and held its hand out as it approached. As he watched, the figures fingers dropped away as if they were attached to a hinge on a false hand. Mitchell watched in horror as the figure pointed its hand at the tramp and there was what appeared to be a small explosion from a short tube that had appeared. The tramp dropped down onto the ground, smoke pouring from where the strange creature had shot him. It had to be a creature, it was certainly no man.

“Stop there. Drop your weapon and get down on the ground with your arms spread.” Mitchell shouted. He was sure now that it was a weapon.

Across the street, the creature looked up at him and cocked its head. If he didn’t know better, Mitchell would have sworn that it was a shop mannequin. The last thing PC Christopher Allan Mitchell, number three three one nine, ever saw was the mannequin raise its arm so it was pointing at him and then a puff of smoke come from the end.

*

“Keep him under observation if you can, but by no means engage or confront him. Understood?” Loding said into the radio.

“Understood trap seven.” Jason Strethams’ tinny voice came from the radio.

“Trap seven out.” Loding said replacing the receiver.

Getting to her feet, she turned and ran from the room attracting some looks from the two privates who were also on duty in the operations room. Dodging round the few privates that were walking through the corridors, Loding burst into the lab, crashing to a halt and saluting. Morris and the Doctor were stood over one of the benches poring over reports. The Doctors two friends were sat towards the back of the lab looking bored, more so the man. The girl was looking through what looked like a CD booklet. A small portable CD player sat on the desk beside her, music playing softly.

“At ease, Loding.” Morris said looking up at her.

“Sir, we’ve got a positive report from one of our Myrmidons.” She reported.

The Doctors’ head snapped up immediately fixing Loding with his brilliant eyes. “You’ve found the Master?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” Loding replied. “At a factory called ‘Rutilus Allec’ out Chigwell way.”

“That’s Jason Stretham isn’t it?” Morris asked, leaping into action and rounding the table. “Good work, Loding. Follow me and we’ll get a squad together and head out there.” Pausing at the door, Morris looked back into the lab. “Doctor, you coming with us?”

“Yes, yes I should think so,” the Doctor replied, an almost lost look on his face. “If the Master and Autons are there then you could probably do with my help.”

“Good thinking. We’ll get any flame throwers we have, explosive rounds too.” Morris mused aloud before looking back to the Doctor. “Loading bay A, five minutes.” He added before disappearing with Loding following.

“Yes, alright Will,” The Doctor said quietly not moving before he too sprung into action, gathering together all the reports into one pile, rolling them up and stuffing them into a pocket.

“So when do we go?” Jess asked, putting the booklet back into the CD case and getting to her feet.

“I’ll be going in five minutes as Will said,” the Doctor turned round to face Jess and Tom. “Although you two won’t be coming.”

“What? Why?” Tom asked.

“Well, one reason is, I know UNIT and they’re likely to go in shooting and turn the factory into a war zone,” the Doctor replied counting off on his fingers. “Two, I don’t want you getting into the middle of that war zone, especially if the Master is involved as there are likely to be some nasty surprises, three, you’re a lot safer off here and four, I need you here anyway to do some background research into this factory. There’s something about it that’s bugging me and I can’t think for the life of me what it is.”

“But, Doctor-” Jess began before the Time Lord cut her off holding his hand up.

“Please, this is very important,” he interjected. “I know I’m asking you to keep back and out of the way when before I haven’t, but this is important, I can feel it. Please? Please, please, please?”

“Oh, don’t do the puppy dog eyes again, Doctor!” Jess sighed looking at the Time Lords face. He’d seemed to go full circle from intense danger to excitable child again.

“We’ll stay put if that’s what you want.” Tom replied.

“Thank you.” The Doctor smiled. “I’d rather have you two doing this than any of the UNIT chaps.”

Turning, the Doctor made to leave the room, before pausing and turning back as if noticing the music for the first time. Crossing the lab, he unplugged the CD player and picked it up, tucking it under his arm. Glancing about quickly, he collected several circuits that were lying scattered across the bench before turning back to the door and pausing again.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind if I borrow this?” he asked hefting the player before disappearing from sight.

“Erm, no, go ahead.” Jess replied, slightly in shock at what had just happened before realisation sunk in. “Hey, my CD’s still in there.” She said to Tom.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring it back good as new!” The Doctors’ voice filtered back into the lab.

“But... that was the new Megadeth album,” Jess finished quietly, pitting the CD case back into the Virgin Megastores bag.

“He said he’d bring it back.” Tom said.

“I swear he get’s madder at certain times of day!” Jess laughed before sitting down before a computer and stretching her arms. “Now, what was this place called he wanted us to check up on?”

“Rutilus Allec, wasn’t it?” Tom replied taking a seat at the computer beside the one Jess was powering up. “Sounds like Latin to me.”

“You speak Latin?” Jess asked.

“Not really. You?”

“I know etcetera, Deus ex machina and Carpe Diem. That’s about it.” Jess shrugged sitting back waiting for the machine to load. She suddenly became aware of a figure stood in the doorway watching her. Turning, she saw a private stood staring at the two of them. “Can we help?” She asked causing Tom to spin round on the swivel chair he was sat on.

“No, I was just checking.” The private said. “I heard voices, didn’t realise there was someone in here.”

“We are. We’re doing research for the Doctor.” Jess replied, unsure why she had to explain herself to a private. Feeling more bravado she got to her feet. “And what are you doing, Private? Shouldn’t you be involved with the attack on the factory?”

“Baxter, isn’t it?” Tom asked looking at the private. “Just a driver aren’t you? You took me, the Doctor and Captain Morris to the factory earlier.”

“Driver and support staff, sir.” Baxter confirmed. “I’m new to UNIT.”

“Well, don’t worry, we’re up here.” Jess smiled. “If we see or hear anything, we’ll report it.”

Nodding, Baxter turned and left the lab as Jess sat back down at her computer and opened the internet browser.

“Back to the grind, eh?” She chuckled, typing into the search bar. Her smile faded when the results came up on screen. “Oh dear.” She said softly.

“What is it?” Tom asked looking up at her screen.

“If I’ve spelt Rutilus Allec right, then it could be trouble.” Jess turned the monitor towards Tom. “It’s coming up with a translation to ‘Red Herring’. I think the Doctor is walking into a trap.”

*

The Master stood pacing round the windows of an observation gantry, high above a factory floor. Below, Autons worked tirelessly at machines, churning out a wide variety of items, ranging from masks and novelty party hats and other party paraphernalia up to full scale human sized mannequins, ready to be animated into the ranks of the Autons. Andrea Rogers was sat by a control panel with a computer nearby working.

“We’re receiving the Nestene energy transfer from the other factory.” She said, turning round and looking up at the Master.

“Excellent,” the Master purred, stroking his beard. “Transfer it down to the newly processed Autons.”

Nodding, Andrea turned back to the console and started tapping furiously at the keyboard before her. Smiling to himself, the Master strode out onto a balcony overlooking the floor. Gripping the metal railing with his black leather gloved hands; he leaned out and looked down as the twenty ranked freshly processed Autons jerked before slowly moving.

“Can you hear me?” He shouted down to the mannequins. As one, they all turned to face him and looked up. Each one was wearing a burgundy boiler suit with beige scarf wrapped around their flesh coloured plastic necks. Their blank eyes stared up at the Time Lord awaiting his order. “You are now fully processed and ready to obey my orders. The back five of you are to join the work force. The rest of you report to the stations you have been allocated.”

The Master smiled as the first three ranks of Autons turned and filed out of the room, while the last rank turned and joined their kind at the machines. Turning round, the Master re-entered the office as a chime sounded. He looked down expectantly at Andrea as she read script that appeared on the monitor.

“Master, our infiltration unit reports that the Doctor and the UNIT forces are on their way here.” She reported.

“Excellent,” the Master smiled. “Order him to sever all of UNITs communications and then begin his work. Once the Doctor and UNIT arrive we can close the trap.”

[Fitz Kreiner]

Corporal Loding jumped to her feet at the sound of the alarm. It seemed to be reverberating around the now almost empty HQ. As far as she knew, there was just her, the Doctor’s two friends and a few privates milling about. It took her several long seconds to realise that this particular alarm was the fire alarm. A drill hadn’t been organised, of that she was sure.

Being the only duty officer in the operations room, Loding kicked back against the floor and her chair scooted across the floor on its casters. Stopping herself at the desk edge, Loding looked at the screen that told her where the alarm had been triggered; it was one of the labs, the one where the Doctors TARDIS stood. Flicking on the CCTV monitor she was perplexed to be met by a picture of static. The camera was out.

Getting to her feet, Loding ran from the room, flinging open the doors, not hearing their loud crashing against the walls as she sprinted down the corridor. Had she not been in such a hurry, she would probably have spotted the figure stood in a shadow, seemingly oblivious to the sound of the alarm.

Watching until Loding had turned the corner; Private Baxter moved out of the shadows and entered the operations room, making sure that the doors were firmly closed behind him.

*

Jess started at the sound of the alarm. She’d only just turned her attention back to the computer. As of yet, she hadn’t been able to find anything out about the Rutilus Allec plastics factory. As far as the internet, and several online directories, was concerned; the company didn’t exist. Looking round, panicked, at the door, Jess half expected Tom to burst back in telling her that Autons had broken into UNIT HQ.

Getting to her feet, Jess cautiously crept to the door and opened it. As soon as she did, the acrid and pungent smell of something burning hit her. It seemed to be coming from down the corridor, and her curiosity peaked, she followed it.

*

Loding skidded round the corner as she approached the corridor that lead to the labs. The smell of burning was much stronger here. At the far end of the corridor, she saw the girl, Jess, emerge from the lab where she and Tom had been working. Her wrinkled nose and the look on her face told that she could smell it as well.

Smoke was billowing out of an open door just down the corridor. The sound of a fire extinguisher sounded over the alarm and Loding saw someone moving in the smoky room, through the windows. The smoke was dying down to mere wisps now. The figure had opened a window and was trying to wave the smoke away.

Realising that she’d been stood watching the drama, Loding walked towards the doorway, Jess, she saw, was doing the same from the opposite end of the corridor. The two women reached the door at the same time. The smoke had almost dissipated now, although the shrill alarm was still sounding. Looking through the door, Loding saw the Doctors’ other companion, Tom, inside. He held a fire extinguisher loosely in one hand and was looking at a blackened, molten and twisted mass on the desk. Shards of broken glass were scattered about the mess. It was then Loding realised what the mass was; the calling device that Morris had used to bring the Doctor here.

“So much for a non smoking building.” Tom shouted over the sound of the alarm.

“What happened?” Loding asked, almost choking on the fumes that still hung heavy in the room.

“I was on my way to contact the Doctor, we’ve found something rather disturbing about this factory that he and Morris have gone off to.” Tom started, putting the fire extinguisher onto the floor with a clang. “I saw someone going round the corner at the end of the corridor.”

“You think they did this?” Loding asked, looking at the expression on Toms face. “Did you see who it was?”

“No,” Tom replied, shaking his head. “Although he was a he, and he was a private. Surely there can’t be that many left in the building, what with this raid going on.” Tom paused and hit himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand. “The raid.”

Jess’s eyes widened as she realised at the same time as Tom. “The Doctor and Captain Morris are walking into a trap.”

Loding looked from Jess to Tom, not sure what the two were talking about. “What do you mean?”

“We looked up that factory that they’ve gone to raid online,” Jess explained to Loding. “The company doesn’t exist, and the name is Latin for ‘Red Herring’. We think that the Master has set this all up.”

All sound of the alarm seemed to fade from Lodings’ hearing as what Jess had said sunk in. Turning, Loding made for the door, turning back to the two travellers. “With me, quick,” she said running back down the corridor towards the operations room.

Shrugging to Tom, Jess turned and ran after Loding, Tom following close behind. Jess wasn’t even sure whether the building was large enough to enable someone to run in, but there always seemed to be running, more often than not, down corridors. At least the run was a short one, Jess thought as she almost collided with the back of Loding. The Corporal was holding the handle to the door, but had paused, as if listening.

“What is it?” Jess whispered, as best as she could over the sound of the alarm, which was still ringing.

“Smell,” Loding said, sniffing the air.

Sniffing, Jess wrinkled her nose in disgust. There was still a strong acrid smell of burning hanging in the air. She wasn’t sure whether the smell was stuck in her nostrils or whether it was coming from a new source. Looking at Loding, she shrugged.

Indicating for Jess and Tom to stand back, Loding removed the pistol from the holster on her hip and kicked open the door to the operations room before recoiling as smoke billowed out. “What the hell?” She choked before turning to Jess and Tom. “Those fire extinguishers, quick!”

Turning, Jess grabbed a fire extinguisher hanging from the wall, spotting Tom grabbing one from farther down the corridor. Pulling off the plastic protective tag, Jess pointed the extinguisher to where she could see a flickering orange flame through the smoke and activated it with a whoosh of carbon dioxide. She was aware of the sound of two more extinguishers and turned to see Loding and Tom beside her, pointing them into the room.

After what seemed like an age, Jess put the now empty extinguisher down on the floor and glanced at Tom, who was spraying brief bursts at small explosions of sparks. Coughing and waving away the smoke that still remained, she looked back at Loding, who was stood with her extinguisher resting on a chair, rubbing the back of her neck and surveying the damage.

“What do you think happened?” She asked.

“I don’t think an overload would have caused this.” Tom said from the other side of the room.

“Sabotage,” Loding agreed. “But the question is, who?”

“One way of finding out,” Tom said, placing his fire extinguisher on the floor. “Lock down the building, the saboteur has to still be here. Then we have the difficult task of questioning everyone to find out who it was.”

“What about the Doctor?” Jess asked. “How are we going to let him know what we’ve found out?”

“I don’t know,” Tom admitted. “I think we have our own trouble here.”

Jess opened her mouth to argue as the room was plunged into darkness, the lights flicking off both inside and down the corridor outside as well. The sound of the fire alarm died away, leaving an echoing ring.

“What the-?” she started, looking round the gloom, the room dimly lit by the fast fading daylight outside.

“The fuse box,” Loding gasped, looking round at Jess and Tom.

“Where is it?” Tom asked, starting to bounce on his feet.

“The cellar,” Loding replied, watching as Tom turned and ran from the room. “But its security coded, you won’t get in.” She shouted after him.

Pausing, Tom turned and shouted back. “Unless it escaped your attention, someone already has. And if they’re after sabotage, I can imagine it would be easy to get back in.” Tom turned to run back down the corridor before looking back into the operations room. “Besides, I know a thing or two,” he added before running off.

“What do you think we should do?” Jess asked, looking at Loding.

“See what the damage is. We can’t do anything here until we get the power back.” Loding said looking around the carnage of the operations room and then making for the door. “Besides, your friend might need some help with the security codes and fuse box.”

*

The Land Rover skidded to a halt outside the gates of Rutilus Allec, Captain Morris jumping out before the vehicle came to a full stop. Stepping out of the small gatehouse, the security guard looked bemused at the three army vehicles now stopping before him.

“What’s all this then?” he asked as Morris approached him.

Reaching into his pocket, Morris produced his identity card and flashed it at the guard. “Captain William Morris, UNIT. This area is now a military operation and off limits to civilians. I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the area.”

“Sorry mate, can’t do that,” the guard said, pulling himself up. “I’m gonna need to see official notes. Never heard of you UNIT lot.”

“Never the less, this area is now off limits to civilians. We’ve reason to believe that the area is under command of hostile forces.” Morris said looking over the guards shoulder and seeing Jason Stretham crossing the grounds from the reception. “We’ve had confirmation from our agent.”

The guard turned to see Stretham walk up to the gate and salute to Morris. “Sir, target sighted in the main reception heading down to the factory floor.”

“Thank you Private.” Morris said, returning the salute. “Report to Sergeant Lovatt and get kitted out.”

“Sir,” Stretham saluted again and ducked under the gate barrier and jogged over to where Lovatt was now standing beside one of the vehicles.

“Now, if you don’t mind, sir?” Morris asked, gesturing for the guard to move away from the gates. “One of my men will tell you where to keep out of the way.”

Watching the guard slowly walk off, Morris crossed back to the jeep and flung open the passenger door. The Doctor was sat in the passenger seat, Jess’ CD player sat on his lap, the backing removed. He was holding a piece of equipment between his teeth and humming to himself as he twisted two wires together and pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his coat breast pocket and held it close to the wires. Morris watched in amazement as the two wires soldered together.

“What is that thing you’re making?” He asked.

“Hopefully, something that will deal with any auton we may come across.” The Doctor replied removing the circuit from his teeth and soldering some more wiring to it. “Could I borrow your radio?” he added looking up at Morris and smiling.

“Oh, uhm, yes,” Morris stammered, unclipping his radio from his belt and passing it to the Doctor. He opened his mouth to say something when the Doctor removed the back cover of the radio and started to fiddle with the workings inside. Thinking better of it, he closed his mouth. He was starting to get used to the reactions that he got from the Doctor and the insane amount of techno babble that the Time Lord spouted.

“Is the Master inside?” The Doctor asked, looking up again.

“He was spotted heading to the factory.” Morris said, beckoning Lovatt and Stretham over.

The Doctor looked up at Stretham in his guards’ uniform and smiled. “Ah, the Myrmidon. Tell me, did the Master come through the main doors?”

“No,” Stretham reported. “He and a blonde woman seemed to come out of a vending machine. It was damned weird. I dunno if they were already hiding in there?”

“A vending machine?” the Doctor asked, fixing Stretham with a piercing stare. “Was it there earlier in the night?”

“I don’t remember, sir.” Stretham said.

“He came by TARDIS,” the Doctor mused before jumping out of the land rover and gripping Morris by the upper arms. “Will, I want four of your best chaps to come with me; we’ve got a Vending machine to confiscate.” Not waiting for a reply, the Doctor made off towards the reception, his coat tails flapping behind him.

*

The Master stood staring at a small monitor screen, his arms folded, chuckling to himself. The black and white image showed the Doctor and four UNIT troops entering the reception of the factory. He turned to where Andrea was working and walked over.

“Activate the building defences, my dear, and then I think it’s time we were off.”

Nodding and smiling, Andrea flicked a switch and got to her feet. “Back to the TARDIS?”

“No, the UNIT forces will no doubt have got it. But don’t worry my dear, we’ll get it back alright.” He smiled. “We’ll head back to the distribution centre in London.”

*

The Doctor ran his hand over the front of the vending machine near the reception desk. Pulling the TARDIS key out of his pocket, he slipped it into the coin slot and twisted. Reaching out, he opened the front and peered into the blackness within.

“Yes, I thought as much.” He nodded, closing the front and turning to the four troops. “I need you chaps to help get it on the trolley.”
Nodding, three of the troops grabbed the machine and tilted it as Stretham kicked the square wooden trolled underneath the vending machine. Reaching up to the top, he helped pull it onto the trolley. Making sure it was secure; the four men slowly wheeled it back to the main doors.

“Oh dear,” the Doctor muttered, rattling the main doors. Turning, he glanced around the reception and saw a small red sensor flashing in the corner. “I think we’ve been spotted, they’ve activated security alert.” He called out to the troops.

A rustling sound soon filled the quiet of the reception, causing the five men inside to look around. A motion beside the Doctor’s face caused him to turn round slowly to look at the plant.

“I don’t suppose any of you noticed whether these plants were real or not, did you?” He asked slowly.

“I thought they were an example of what they make here,” Stretham replied. “Plastic aren’t they?”

“Plastic!” the Doctor cried.

Around the reception, branches and vines reached out like tentacles towards the troops. “Everyone away from the-” The Doctor didn’t finish his sentence as a thick plastic branch wrapped itself around his throat.

[Fitz Kreiner]

Jess arrived into the reception of UNIT HQ, closely behind Loding. She still couldn’t get over how much it still looked like the reception of an ordinary office building. She guessed it was to add to all the secrecy of the organisation. A plain clothed receptionist was stood looking rather bemused by the blackout. Upon spotting Loding, she came up to her and saluted. Jess assumed that she was the plain clothed front.

“What’s the S.P?” Loding asked.

“I don’t know, Corp.” The girl said. “I was working on a report and the electrics went off. The young man, Tom, rushed in a moment ago asking for directions to the cellar. He thinks it’s the fuses.”

“You haven’t seen anyone about acting suspicious.”

“No one’s been about all evening, it’s been rather quiet.”

Loding tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think there’s much else to do tonight. You might as well head off, finish the report tomorrow.” She said looking at the girl.

“Thank you, Corp.” She smiled, dashing over to the desk and grabbing a bag and coat.

Loding watched as she left the building before turning back to Jess. “What do you suggest now?” Jess asked.

Loding ran a hand through her dark brown hair as she weighed up the possibilities in her mind. Anyone who would come into the building would have to come through this reception, and the receptionist hadn’t seen anyone. The fire escapes were an exit option, but unless someone let someone in that way, it wasn’t possible. Besides, each fire escape was alarmed. The garages were the only other entry/exit point. Those doors were electronically controlled as well, so they were currently out of order. The saboteur still had to be in the building.

Glancing back at Jess, she saw the girl had an eyebrow raised, awaiting the answer to her question. She was about to answer when there was a rap on the glass doors. She turned in time to see a man in a brown suit with grey hair walk in. A uniformed police officer stood behind him.

“Can we help?” Loding asked.

The man reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and removed a warrant card. “D.I. Hammond, Metropolitan Police.” He said, showing his ID. “We have something that you UNIT chaps might be interested in.”

Loding glanced back at Jess, who was now stood, hands on hips, a quizzical eyebrow raised, looking at Hammond. Smiling, Loding turned back. “What can we do to help?” she asked.

“One of our uniform patrols never reported back to the station.” Hammond began. “Their last report was in Camden, they’d been flagged down by a pedestrian. After that, we heard nothing else. Their car was found abandoned and their bodies, along with the bodies of four civilians, found in a street not too far from here.”

Hammond paused and motioned to the PC behind him. The young man stepped forwards holding a file. His age and the look on his face told that he hadn’t seen many bodies, and the scene he had no doubt seen had shaken him. Hammond motioned for the young man to put the file down on the front desk.

“Can you not pop some lights on?” He asked, looking round at Loding.

“I’m afraid we’ve had some electrical problems, we’re working on it.” She replied.

Nodding in understanding, Hammond opened the file and passed the first of the photographs inside to Loding and Jess. “Five of the bodies, we could see no discernable cause of death, other than some scorch marks. Three, well, three kids basically, a homeless guy and one of our PCs.” Hammond pulled another picture out of the file.
“Now this is the puzzler; our other PC. It seemed like he was trying to radio in, but the bizarre thing is this black mess that’s covered his mouth and nose. It looks like his radio melted to him, but there were no burn marks around the face.”

Jess and Loding both turned and looked at each other, their eyes wide in shock and realisation.

“Plastic?” Jess asked.

“I beg your pardon?” Hammond responded looking up at her.

“Was the radio made of plastic? The casing of it, I mean?” Jess elaborated.

“Oh, yes,” Hammond confirmed, holding a hand out to the PC, who passed him his radio. “They’re all standard issue.”

“Can we see?” Loding asked, holding her hand out. Collecting the radio from Hammond, she looked around the encroaching gloom and turned to the PC. “And your torch?”

Stepping towards Jess, she placed the radio down on the desk and shone the torch on it, a bright spot of light in the gloom.

“You know what we’re looking for,” she whispered to Jess.

“Well, not really, but I can give it a go.” Jess replied, gingerly picking the radio up.

“What are you looking for?” Hammond asked, leaning round to see.
“I dunno yet,” Jess shrugged.

Turning it in her hands, she carefully examined the case of the radio; studying the buttons and aerial carefully. Glancing up at Loding, the Corporal returned a blank look. Turning it back to study the back, Jess fumbled with the back cover, which held the battery. Removing it, she placed the cover back on the desk and examined the battery inside. It was when she reached to pick up the back cover that she spotted it; an indent stamp. Clearly stamped into the plastic of the cover were the words; ‘Les Plastiques Maîtrisent’.

“That’s the factory that the Doctor went to earlier.” She said, pointing it out to Loding.

Nodding in agreement, Loding turned to Hammond. “Was the radio your other PC had the same as this, made in the same place?”

“Yes, must have been.” Hammond replied.

“If that’s the case, you must have been right earlier. I think we’ve been barking up the wrong tree.” Loding realised, looking at Jess.

“We’ve done some checking on the buildings near where they were found,” Hammond said. “One of them was held to a company called Rutilus Allec, and we’ve done some research on them and they don’t seem to exist.”

Jess and Loding exchanged another look at the sound of the name.
“We’ve been doing some research on them as well,” Jess admitted. “I think we’d better come have a look at this place.”

“I think you’re right.” Loding agreed. “I think the matters here might have to be put on the back burner.”

“It’ll take at least two hours to sort the fuse box and telephones. The rest might take a little-” Toms’ voice came from the shadows as he emerged from the corridor, pausing as he spotted the two police officers. “Oh hello, what’s all this then?”

“There’s been a bit of an incident round the corner, involving plastic.” Jess replied turning round and smiling. “Corporal Loding and me are going to check it out, will you be ok here?”

“Yeah, I should be able to get the basics done for the morning. Well, as long as I can have light, screwdrivers, fuse wire, and of course, a cup of tea.” Tom replied, smiling and winking.

“What about the sab-?” Loding paused and glanced back at Hammond and leant closer to Tom. “What about the saboteur?”

“Well, he’ll think his job’s done now. He’ll be lying low, keeping his head down.” Tom said. “I just need someone you can trust to show me where what I need is, and keep guard.”

“Private Harris should fill that role for you.” Loding said after a few moments thought before turning back to Hammond. “If you’ll wait here, we’ll just get our equipment together and we’ll be with you.”

Hammond nodded his understanding, placing the pictures back in the file and passing it back to the PC.

*

Sergeant Lovatt glanced up at the glass doors of the reception to the factory office, her eyes widened at the sight that greeted them. The Doctor was struggling with something that was attempting to throttle him. Lovatt couldn’t be sure but it looked like one of the large pot plants in the reception. She didn’t think the Doctor was the sort to play practical jokes like that.

“Captain, we’ve got trouble,” she shouted already heading off towards the doors.

Morris rounded the land rover to see the sight across the car park and instantly set off at a run, shouting back to the troops behind him to follow. He reached the doors just seconds after Lovatt, who was desperately rattling them. He could see inside clearly now; the Doctor and all four troops inside were being attacked by the plants, as if they were living creatures.

“They’re locked, Sir.” Lovatt shouted, turning to face him, still struggling with the doors.

“We’ll see about that,” Morris muttered drawing his pistol from its holster. Aiming carefully at the doors, so the bullets wouldn’t hit anyone the other side, he shot five rounds into the large glass doors, causing them to cobweb. With a swift kick, the glass crumbled into a glistening pile of small cubes. “You men, get them out of there.” He shouted back to the patrol, gesturing through the shattered door.

It took what seemed like an hour before the five men were finally brought out. The Doctor still seemed perfectly alright, rubbing and stretching his neck. Stetham was choking and breathing heavily. Two of the other men had passed out and the last was dead, his head lolling limply as he was lowered gently to the floor. Morris glanced back at the reception area. The branches of the plants were snaking and reaching out like tentacles.

“What the hell?” He asked, turning to the Doctor.

“Remember what I told you about the Nestene animating plastic?” The Doctor replied. “Well, those plants are plastic, and presumably a security device. Just like the Master to leave a nasty little trap like that.”

“What do you think we should do now then?” Morris asked. “I don’t want to order my chaps through there.” He pointed at the trashing plastic plants.

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” The Doctor replied. “How are those fellers?”

“One’s dead, the others will live.” Lovatt said, from where she was crouched.

“Right, Will,” the Doctor said, putting his hand on Morris’ shoulder and leading him away from the group. “If you could split your chaps into two teams and cover all exits, I’ll finish work on my device, plus I can help carry one of those poor fellers, and then we can move in, I believe you military chaps say.”

“What about the TARDIS thing you were after?” Morris asked.

“We’ll have to leave that until my device is ready.” The Doctor replied. “Especially with the plastic plants cutting off the reception entrance.”

“Well, you’d better hurry it up, Doctor. I don’t wanna face an army of those Auton things in the dark.” Morris replied.

“Oh, don’t worry, Will.” The Doctor smiled turning and heading towards the unconscious soldiers. “I’m nearly done.” Pausing, the Doctor turned back to Morris and pointed a long finger at him a serious look on his face. “And if we do run into the Master in there, make sure that you leave him to me.”

Morris nodded as he watched the Time Lord walk back to the three prone men. He had a brief chat with Lovatt and they moved off, carrying the injured men. Walking back to the remaining men, Morris ordered them to attention and gave them their orders.

*

“What do you think our chances are?” Lovatt asked the Doctor.

The Time Lord was sat in the passenger seat of the land rover, the glove compartment hanging open and wires from the light inside trailing out. The Doctor had attached Morris’ radio to the CD player by a thick black wire. The backing of the player was off and Lovatt could see the workings inside. It looked as though the Doctor had added a lot of his own modifications.

“What is that?” Lovatt asked.

“This, my dear Sergeant, is an adaptation on an old design of mine. I’ve modified the CD player to emit an electronic signal that should interfere with the Nestene control signal and stop an Auton in its tracks. I just hope Jess’ taste in music can stop the things.” The Doctor smiled up at her.

“What’s the music?”

The Doctor popped the top of the player open and peered at the CD inside. “I can’t tell whether it’s ‘Megadeth’, or ‘Risk’.” He replied. “Either way, it should do the trick. Just cover your ears.”

Lovatt did so, watching as the Doctor held the radio part of the device at arm’s length, pointing the aerial at the driver’s window. He turned to Lovatt and winked, pressing the play button. A high pitched electronic shriek filled the air. He pressed the button again and the sound stopped.

“I was expecting something more than that?” Lovatt replied, removing her hands from her ears.

“It’s not a bazooka, Sergeant.” The Doctor replied, almost sounding hurt. Passing the device to Lovatt, he jumped down from the land rover and clapped her gently on the back. “Now, I could use your help to use this, Sergeant, if you don’t mind?”

“Right you are, Doctor.” Lovatt smiled, hefting the player, before the smile faded from her face. “How?”

“Well, I can’t hold the main body of it, press the button, and hold the hand piece at the same time.” The Doctor replied, smiling. “Sometimes it would help to have an extra hand, and as I don’t have one, I’m borrowing one.”

*

Private Eddie Caplin peered through the glass panel in the door and into the gloom of the factory. The light was starting to fade and the inside of the factory was dark. Sighing, he turned back to Joe Adamson, who was stood nearby, his rifle hung slackly from his shoulder.

“Not a thing,” he shrugged.

“Reckon it’s a wild goose?” Adamson suggested, shuffling his feet and stifling a yawn.

“No idea mate.” Caplin replied. “All I know is, I’d rather be in the pub.”

“You and me both, mate.” Adamson laughed. He smile faded as he was sure that he saw some movement inside. “Hang on,”

“What is it?” Caplin asked, turning round.

“There’s someone in there?” Adamson said, pointing to the door.

Caplin peered at the door. Adamson was right; he could see someone moving inside now. No, there were two of them. Caplin watched as they moved closer. There was something odd about them. Cautiously, he cocked his rifle, hearing Adamson do the same beside him.

“What are they?” Adamson asked, his eyes wide as he looked at the figures.

There were four of them now, walking towards the door. They were bald with blank faces. They were wearing boiler suits with scarves tied round their necks.

“What the bloody hell?” Caplin asked as the door burst open.

The two men, their eyes wide with shock, loosed several rounds off as the Autons raised their hands. Their fingers dropping away and they blasted the two men dead.

[Fitz Kreiner]

The Doctor’s head snapped up at the sound of the gunfire from across the factory grounds, the shots echoing off the brick walls of the buildings. He looked up across the car park, where several privates were setting up blockades and covers. They too had looked up at the sound of the gun fire and were glancing around, looking for the source. One Private, carrying an ammunition crate, placed it down and jogged over to where Morris was stood keeping an uneasy eye on the main reception doors.

“Oh, the fools,” he sighed. “Why couldn’t they wait for me? They know what it is they’re dealing with.”

“All due respect, Doctor,” Lovatt interjected. “But maybe they couldn’t help it. Perhaps those Auton things are on the move.”

The Doctor paused, clearly thinking it over. “Good point, Sergeant. Either way, it sounds like they could use our help. Come on,” he added grinning wide.

Lovatt found herself almost being dragged back towards the factory, as the Doctor set off at a run, still holding the transmitter part of his device. A few solitary shots were still ringing out as they approached the front of the reception. Morris turned, seeing their approach and jogged towards them.

“What’s happened Will?” The Doctor asked, not noticing as Lovatt collided with his back.

“Not quite sure,” he replied. “We’ve got a total radio blackout here. I’ve sent a runner round. It sounded like it was coming from Caplin and Adamsons’ area.”

“An Auton advance?” the Doctor suggested.

“If it is, then I guess you’ve arrived in the nick of time with that whatsit of yours.” Morris nodded at the device Lovatt held.

“What, this?” the Doctor smiled, hefting the radio part of the device, enjoying the gobsmacked look on Morris’ face. “Well, it should interfere with any control signal activating an Auton; or in fact anything that the Nestenes decide to activate. So it should certainly deal with those plastic plants in there.” The Doctor nodded to the thrashing plastic vines and branches, snaking out of the shattered reception doors.

“Does it work?” Morris asked.

Smiling, the Doctor looked passed Morris at the reception doors. “Well, Will, there’s only one way to find out.” He grinned and set off at a brisk pace, Lovatt almost dragged behind again.

Bemused, Morris followed along behind. He paused and turned at the sound of more gun fire. He could see Stretham running round the corner. Pausing, Stretham glanced around before spotting Morris and dashing over to him.

“They don’t seem to be stopping, sir.” He panted, saluting.

“Autons, how many?” the Doctor asked turning, his eyes wide and sparkling.

“Six or seven, sir,” Stretham replied. “We just can’t stop them.”

“Right, set up cover round here, we’ll make a stand.” He turned to two privates who were stood, their weapons raised and ready. “You two; go and fetch the explosive and incendiary rounds. Help finish setting up the blockades and get a couple of chaps set up with flame throwers.” Morris paused and then turned to the Doctor.

“Yes, yes Will, my ‘whatsit’ will work very well. I had hoped that we’d get to test it on something like those plants in there first. But needs must,” the Doctor glanced back at the reception before turning back to Morris, a finger raised. “Although if I could borrow Sergeant Lovatt here, we might be able to nip inside, find and disable the control device that the Nestenes are using and save you a battle.”

Stopping, Morris thought for a moment before nodding. “We’ll try and hold them off for you as long as we can. I can’t make you any promises, but if you’ve not had any luck within ten minutes, head back.”

“Hopefully, Will, we’ll have solved all this within ten minutes,” the Doctor smiled.

“I certainly hope so, Doctor. Best of luck,” Morris replied before turning to Lovatt. “You are armed, Sergeant?”

“Yes sir,” Lovatt replied, turning to show the pistol holster at her hip.

“Doctor?”

The Doctor turned back to Morris, an eyebrow raised. “Yes Will?”

“Don’t you want something?” Morris asked.

“I’ve got this,” the Doctor hefted the device and turned to make off towards the reception, Lovatt in tow.

“I meant a weapon; pistol or rifle?” Morris shouted after them.

“Oh no, no; bad for the health, you know?” The Doctor shouted back.

Shaking his head in bemusement, Morris turned back to where several of the men were now holding a defensive position at the far corner of the building. Taking a few long strides over, Morris called out to them.

“You men fall back to defensive positions here,” he yelled before turning to the three privates filling up compact flame throwers. “You three; get ready over there and if any of those Auton things come round, let them have it.”

Nodding, the three troops ran over, taking cover where they could, covering the way to the factory. With the way covered, the troops giving covering fire backed away towards the rest of the platoon. Running over, Morris crouched down beside Stretham who was loading his rifle with explosive rounds. Holstering his pistol, he picked up a sub machine gun lying atop an ammunition crate and checked that it was loaded. It was, with incendiary bullets, designed to ignite when they impacted with their target.

Chancing a look over the barricade he was sheltering behind, Morris saw several of his troops preparing themselves, the three with flame throwers positioned in a manner to blast whatever came round the corner with three gouts of flame. It was then the idea struck Morris that he could have made use of petrol bombs. He’d read all the old reports saying that the Autons were invulnerable to ordinary ammunition, being made of plastic. He hoped that the explosive and incendiary rounds he’d brought would have some effect.

Morris flexed his hands around the machine gun he held. He’d been in battle before, but not quite like this. All sounds of gun fire that had been echoing around the industrial estate from his troops had died away, leaving an eerie silence. He didn’t like it, it was too quiet. He mentally chastised himself for thinking of such a cliché. His fears were soon subsided when he saw shadows moving round the corner, cast from figures marching past the outside lights of the factory. Each figures arm was extended and what looked like a weapon in their hand.

“Everyone get ready,” he shouted. His shout was replied by the sound of multiple guns being cocked and feet shuffling.

Then, they came; the Autons rounding the corner. Each wearing a maroon boiler suit, black boots and beige scarves around their necks. Their bald, plastic heads glinted softly in the glare of the security lights as they advanced. Those in the front stopped until the rest of the group of Autons arrived behind them. As a group, they advanced, their arms raised, fingers dropped and their tube-like weapons poised. As the squad of Autons advanced, Morris shouted the order:

“Flame squad; fire,” he yelled.

Breaking cover, the three flame throwers ignited, dousing the front of the advancing Autons with a brilliant yellow flame. The lead Auton was caught by all three jets of flame, and disappeared in a yellow haze. As the flames died down, Morris looked up and saw the Autons were still advancing. The first Auton was a walking pillar of flame, acrid black smoke billowing from it, as flames licked from its boiler suit and the plastic of its face melted into blackening molten blobs, dropping down to the concrete of the ground.

“Fire,” Morris shouted breaking cover and loosing rounds off towards the advancing Autons.

He saw his spray of bullets impact into the first Auton, it staggered back as the incendiary rounds impacted into it, exploding globules of molten plastic from its body. Around him, his men were also firing at the advancing plastic dummies, bullets spraying across their fronts, ripping holes across their boiler suits. The explosive and incendiary rounds were spraying small eruptions of molten plastic from their bodies.

Explosions of smoke erupted from the hands of the Autons as they fired at the soldiers. Morris ducked as there was a soft explosion and thick chocking smoke erupted from the pile or wooden pallets to his left. Releasing the magazine, Morris picked up another and thrust it into place. He broke cover to fire again, as the flame throwers unleashed more gouts of flame at the advancing Autons. He could see that several of his men were lying dead or injured. Knowing he could do nothing for them at the moment; he loosed another spray of bullets at the Autons.

There were several flaming blobs of molten plastic littering the car park where some of the Autons had collapsed in heaps, their plastic legs unable to support their frames any more as flames licked at them. The thick acrid smoke of molten plastic poured up into the air, the acrid smell wafting over the small battleground.

Morris hoped that his road blocks, positioned around the industrial estate were still keeping civilians out. He bit down on his tongue as he fired another volley, a habit he had picked up when in training to aid his concentration. He emptied his second magazine into an Auton that had turned on one of the men with a flame thrower. Its weapon was useless now, and the flaming, molten mass lurched forwards, its arms outstretched. The soldier had backed away, but was now flat against the brick wall.

Morris watched, helpless as the Auton toppled forwards onto the soldier. He screamed in pain as the flaming molten mass landed on his legs. Dropping to the floor, he rolled about, in an attempt to extinguish the flames. His gun clicking empty, Morris removed the magazine and slammed home a third, wiping the sweat from his brow. He felt a slight glow of satisfaction deep inside as he watched another Auton topple in a molten mass. Morris knew that all UNIT’s previous engagements with the Autons, they hadn’t managed to stop an Auton advance. He felt proud knowing that his men were stopping them here. He had suffered casualties, true, but the Autons hadn’t driven them back at all.

Fires now blazed around the car park and grounds of the factory. Caused either by the collapsing molten Autons, or the blasts from the Autons weapons. Morris hoped that the Doctor wouldn’t be too much longer. He glanced at his watch. The Time Lord had only been gone seven minutes, he still had another three.

Morris loosed another round of shots at the Autons that were still standing. He noticed that the three men with the flame throwers had fallen back, their fuel tanks empty. Five of the Autons were still standing, one of them was charred, the side of its face a molten and blackened mess. Despite the small number of Autons surviving, they were still causing quite some damage. Looking around, Morris saw that at least half his men were either wounded or dead, laying amongst the blockades and fires. The remaining Autons were advancing towards their positions, the bullets slowing them, but no longer stopping them.

“I wish you’d hurry up, Doctor,” Morris muttered under his breath emptying his magazine.

*

Lovatts ears were ringing from the sound of the Doctors’ machine. It was never on for more than ten seconds at a time. Any more than that and it would perforate her eardrums, the Doctor had told her. They had successfully made their way through the reception area, the Doctor using his machine to disable the thrashing plastic plants. He had paused beside the vending machine he had been so interested in and called a TARDIS and drummed his fingers against the front of it, as if thinking deeply. At one point, he put the palm of his hand flat onto it and pressed his forehead against it, as if listening for something.

Lovatt was about to ask him about this when he straightened up and looked briefly up and down the two corridors that stretched from the reception.

“This way, I think.” He said, pointing down the corridor where the Masters’ TARDIS had stood. “It ties with what Mr. Stretham told us about the Master’s movements.”

They so far hadn’t encountered any Autons, which was a blessing. Although on the other hand, it meant that Morris could have quite a battle on his hands. There was certainly a lot of gun fire coming from outside. They were now approaching the main factory floor, where Stretham had said that the Master was. That thought unnerved Lovatt.

The Doctor turned back to her and put his finger to his lips as they approached a pair of doors. The signs above it told them that it was the factory floor. There were some signs of movement visible through the glass windows in the doors; Autons. Lovatt’s eyes widened as she saw the figures moving within the factory.

“Well, what do we do now?” she whispered, the anxiety and trepidation clearly evident in her voice.

“We go on,” the Doctor replied reaching out and grasping the door handle.

“Through there?” Lovatt had to stop herself from shouting as she peered through the glass partitions.

“Why not?” the Doctor asked. “The Autons here are programmed to work, if we’re quiet and quick, we can get up to the control section and shut their power down.” Turning back to the door, the Doctor paused and turned back to Lovatt. “Of course, we’ll have to run and hope they don’t spot us.” He grinned.

Unable to believe she was doing it, Lovatt swallowed and followed the Doctor through the doors. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she was up the stairs to the factory office before she even realised it, colliding with the back of the Doctor.

“Now, now,” he hissed.

Looking over his shoulder, Lovatt saw and Auton in the room turning to them. Hitting the play button on the player, she saw the Auton stiffen and jerk before collapsing to the floor with a crash. Smiling, the Doctor passed the handset back to Lovatt and wandered to the control panels. Setting the Doctors device down, Lovatt joined the Time Lord. The equipment was highly advanced, she could tell.

“This doesn’t look good,” the Doctor muttered. “This equipment is all set to receive energy. The Nestenes are beaming energy here from another source; this isn’t their main base.”

Lovatt looked out of one of the windows into the factory below, the Auton’s didn’t seem to have noticed them. “That might explain why the Master isn’t here.”

A crashing sound from the door and the sound of a small explosion made the Doctor and Lovatt turn. An Auton was stood in the doorway, it’s fingers dropped and weapon extended, pointing at where Lovatt had placed the device, which was now a smoking mess. The Doctor's eyes widened as he stared at the smouldering wreck, before looking back up at the plastic face of the Auton.

"That was Jess's," he exclaimed. "You vandal!"

The Autons head turned to look at the Doctor, and it brought its hand up. The Auton cocked its head as it observed the Doctor and brought its weapon up, pointing it directly between his eyes.

[Fitz Kreiner]

The Auton took a step towards the Doctor, its weapon raised, as the Time Lord backed away, the one step he took causing him to get pressed up against a bank of instruments. Staring at the short stubby gun tube, he fumbled in his pockets for his sonic screwdriver. He wasn’t quite sure whether or not it would work, but it was worth a shot.

“Stop!” he yelled as he fumbled about his person. “Cease, deactivate, avalanche.”

Suddenly the Auton jerked and stepped back as there was the sound of an explosion beside him. Glancing round, he saw Sergeant Lovatt aiming her pistol and shooting the plastic creature in the head. The three shots she fired caused large holes to be punched in its plastic shell as it staggered back to the door before reeling and turning towards Lovatt. With a cry, she charged the Auton, head down and barged into it heavily with her shoulder. Off balance, the Auton staggered back out of the door and hit the railing overlooking the factory floor.

With another charge, Lovatt dived forwards and flung her arms around the Autons legs. One of the creature’s plastic arms swiped down, swinging for Lovatt as she heaved with all her might. After several tentatively long seconds, she managed to lift the creature and it disappeared over the edge of the rail. Several long silent seconds followed until the sound of the Auton crashing into the floor below echoed up.

Grinning, the Doctor turned to Lovatt. “Thank you so much, Sergeant,” he smiled.

Stepping back into the operations office and closing the door heavily behind her, Lovatt reached down for the lock and fumbled with the catch. “Well, best get on with what you have to do Doctor,” she panted looking through the glass at the factory below. “Bullets don’t really stop ‘em for long, and I’ve not got enough for all them down there.”

Rushing to the window, the Doctor peered into the factory floor. Below, the Auton Lovatt had thrown off the balcony was getting to its feet, and the other Autons had stopped their work and were forming ranks, looking up at the control room.

“Oh dear,” the Doctor confirmed jumping over and sitting down in the chair in front of the large control panel. “Well, see what you can do, I’d best hurry. I had hoped to hook my ‘whatsit’ into the controls here and cast a blanket signal that would cause a mass deactivation.”

“What are you planning instead?” Lovatt asked, pulling a filing cabinet across in front of the door.

“Like I said, the Nestenes are shunting energy over to here, so if I can block that, it will stop any more Autons from being activated, and if I can reverse the polarity, I should be able to pull the Nestene energy out of the active Autons, and they should become as harmless as Fred over there.” The Doctor nodded to the collapsed, deactivated Auton that he and Lovatt had dealt with when they first entered the control room. While he was speaking, his eyes never left the screen in front of him and his hands moved over the keyboard at an almost ridiculous speed.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do, let me know.” Lovatt said, shooting a look to the Doctor, the concern on her face clear as the Autons started to climb the stairs. “We could be running out of time.”

“Well, if you could,” the Doctor started pointing at the bank of instrumentation behind him. “That red ended cable there, if you could unplug it and pass it over to me?” As he spoke, the Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and activated it, pulling a covering off one panel with one hand, his other still darting over the keyboard.

Darting over to the instrument panel the Doctor had indicated, Lovatt quickly located the cable and unplugged it from its port and dragged it over to the Doctor who took one quick look at it before turning back to the screens before him.

“No, no, the green cable. Green.” He sighed.

Lovatt opened her mouth to argue, but as the glass window of the door shattered, she thought better of it and returned to the instrument bank. Plugging the red cable back in, she pulled out the green ended one and passed it over to the Doctor. Without looking the Time Lord took the cable and plugged it into a port in the panel he had opened up. Flicking a switch on the console, a plethora of green, blue and red diodes lit up on the instrument back beside Lovatt.

A small explosion beside her head made her duck and look back towards the door. One of the Autons was now leaning through the shattered window, reaching in with its arm, its weapon open. Pulling her pistol from its holster, Lovatt quickly took aim. Her shot hit the Auton in the wrist, the force of the bullet blowing the hand off.

“Oh, good shot, Sergeant,” the Doctor exclaimed, looking round at Lovatt and grinning.

Now unarmed, the Auton went to pull itself out of the window frame, the neck of its boiler suit snagging on a shard of glass still sticking out of the frame. Lovatt almost laughed at the sight as the Auton pulled against the glass. With a tearing sound, the creature finally pulled free, only for one of its comrades to take its place.

“Almost there,” the Doctor cried. “If you could keep them out for two more minutes?”

“I can try,” Lovatt muttered ducking as the Auton in the window fired at her.

*

Morris made to break cover once again as he clicked another magazine into place in his gun. Getting to his feet, he was knocked back down again, choking and his gun clattered across the car park, as an arm hit him across the throat. He looked up to see the badly charred Auton stood above him. Its boiler suit had for the most part burnt away and the flesh coloured plastic was charred and blackened. It now looked nothing like a mannequin dummy, with one arm stretched where the plastic had melted and half the head and face missing in a molten and charred plastic mass.

The Autons head looked down, and Morris got the unnerving feeling that the one remaining blank eye was staring directly into his. There was something about it that sent shivers down his spine. The shivers increased as the Auton brought its hand up. Its fingers were dropped and the short tube of its weapon pointed at his head.

This is it, he thought. His gun was out of reach and he’d never draw his pistol in time. Taking what he expected to be his last breath, Morris stared up at the Auton stood atop of him, when suddenly the creature staggered back under a hail of bullets. He could see them ripping holes in the plastic body.

There was a flash of light and Morris threw a hand over his eyes as he felt himself get sprayed with shards of glass and drops of liquid. He heard the whoosh of the petrol bomb and the wave of heat as the petroleum that had exploded over the plastic creature ignited. Quickly, he scrambled backwards before the drops that he’d felt land on him ignited as well. He looked up to see three of his men brandishing petrol bombs. He had no idea where they’d got the bottles, and the petrol, he assumed they’d siphoned from the vehicles. He was glad to see their initiative at work as they seemed to be halting the Auton advance.

He looked back at his would be killer to see the Auton collapsing into a molten mass. Scrambling to his feet, he gave a thumbs up to the soldier who’d thrown the petrol bomb at the Auton before stooping to pick up his gun. Looking back at the molten Auton, he fired a short burst of bullets into it before turning back to join his men. Glancing over, he saw Jason Stretham taking cover behind a pile of pallets and fumbling with the magazine on his gun. Running over, he took cover beside the private.

“Any news of Sergeant Lovatt or the Doctor?” he asked.

“None, Sir,” Stretham replied, slamming the magazine into place. “But they’ve had their ten minutes. And an extra lot on top of that.”

Morris swore softly under his breath as he craned his neck to look at the reception to the building.

“What shall we do, Sir?” Stretham asked after firing a volley round the edge of the pallets.

Thinking, Morris took another look at the entrance to the reception and then at the battleground in the car park. The Autons were being beaten back, slowly, but they were being beaten. “Well, we’re going in to get them out. They may be in trouble in there.” Morris said eventually.

Spotting one of his men, reloading not too far from him, Morris signalled to him to lay down covering fire. The young soldier nodded in understanding and drew the bolt back on his gun, keeping an eye on Morris, who turned back and told the same to Stretham. Giving the signal, the young soldier burst from cover and loosed his machine gun on the still standing Autons as Morris and Stretham ran for the cover of the reception.

The plastic plants which earlier were thrashing madly, now hung limp, clearly the result of the Doctors machine. The vending machine in which the Doctor had shown so much interest now sat alone and untended, still on the small trolley. Silently indicating to Stretham, Morris led the way down the corridor towards the factory floor. The sounds of the gun fight in the car park died away the deeper the two headed into the factory, but were never drowned out.

There was a new sound up ahead. A crashing sound, as though something heavy was launching itself against a metal door or hatch. There was also the sporadic sound of an Auton gun firing. Morris turned to Stretham, who nodded and the two set off at a run. They soon reached the factory floor to see a large group of Autons on a staircase leading to a small control office overlooking the factory. There were two figures besieged inside; the Doctor and Sergeant Lovatt.

“All guns blazing?” Stretham asked, hefting his gun in his hands and indicating the doors to the factory.

“We may have to, but take any cover possible, we’re hugely outnumbered.” Morris nodded.

“On your word then, Sir,” Stretham nodded.

Morris nodded and kicked open the double doors, sidestepping towards the cover of the machines on the factory floor, whilst firing from the hip at the Autons on the stairs. Following his lead, Stretham did the same, taking cover farther up the factory floor from Morris. The lower Autons on the stairs staggered forwards under the sprays of bullets, crashing to the ground and falling down the stairs due to their proximity to the Autons in front of them. The fallen Autons swiftly got back to their feet and turned towards Morris and Stretham, their fingers dropping.

A gunshot from the control office above could be heard above the sound of the Auton weapons followed by a loud crashing. Morris chanced a look around the corner of the machine he was taking cover behind to see the Autons on the stairs topple down like dominoes, Lovatt stood on the landing above, her pistol in hand. The door behind her was shattered and hanging off its hinges. At the foot of the stairs, the Autons were getting to their feet and Morris hefted his gun, ready to fire off another volley of bullets when his attention was drawn by a cry from the Doctor.

*

The Doctor looked up as there was the sound of bursts of gunfire in the factory below them. “What the devil-?” he began.

“It’s Captain Morris,” Lovatt replied looking down from her sheltered position by the door into the factory floor below.

“Oh, if only they’d waited,” the Doctor sighed. “I’m nearly done here; I could have saved them all this trouble.”

“Not a moment too soon, Doctor.” Lovatt almost cried out as the door buckled in its frame and the filing cabinet she’d barricaded it with shifted several inches across the floor.

Raising her pistol, Lovatt fired the last shot in the chamber at point blank range into the Autons face. With the creature staggering back, Lovatt heaved the filing cabinet out of the way and charged the lined up Autons. Forcing them back, the plastic creatures toppled like dominoes down the stairs, culminating in a tangled mess of plastic limbs. Lovatt smiled to herself at the sight, but her smile soon faded as the creatures untangled themselves. A sudden cry from behind her made her spin.

“Hah! Yes, gotcha!” the Doctor clapped his hands together and leant back in his chair, the backrest tilting back to an almost dangerous level, causing him to shoot his hands out and grip the edge of the control panel. Turning he shot a shocked look at Lovatt before seemingly regaining his composure. “Sergeant, I need to you throw all those switches on that panel over there.” He pointed his hands now hovering over the keyboard again.

Lovatt glanced back out of the battered door at the Autons regrouping at the foot of the stairs and starting to climb them again. Looking back, Lovatt ran to the bank of instruments the Doctor had indicated. The switches he had mentioned had blinking red diodes above them, as she flicked them, the red diodes flickered off and were replaced with steady green diodes below. She could hear the furious tapping as the Doctors fingers danced over the keyboard keys. The tapping stopped as he pushed his chair back and jumped to his feet and grabbed a switch beside where he was now stood.

“Ready?” he grinned.

“Just do it!” Lovatt yelled looking at the door as the first of the Autons reached it.

Looking in, the creature raised its hand and its fingers dropped. As the Doctor pulled on the switch, the Auton started to sway, gently at first but then more and more. Its arm drooped and then its head before it crashed to the ground. Lovatt looked out of the door to see the other Autons collapse as one. Those on the stairs tumbled down into a heap at the bottom.

Down in the factory floor, Morris and Stretham broke their cover and looked at the Autons, now deactivated mannequins lying on the floor. Their weapons were held low, but they were still wary, nudging the Autons with the toes of their boots. Several of the plastic creatures turned over to their backs under the force of the nudging, their dead, blank eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“You did it, Doctor,” Morris shouted up to the control office. “I don’t know what you did, but you did it.”

“That’s only part of it, Will.” The Doctor shouted from the office, causing Morris to jump over the fallen Autons and rush up the stairs.

“What do you mean?” He asked, entering through the shattered door frame.

“This isn’t the Master’s main base of operations; he’s been transferring energy from elsewhere and seems to have set this all up as a diversion, to draw us in.” The Doctor paused and turned in the chair to face Morris. “I’ve remembered why the name Rutilus Allec seems so familiar; it’s Latin for “Red Herring”. I’m a fool not to have seen it sooner.”

“So what does that mean?” Morris asked.

“I think this was one giant trap from the Master. Designed to lure us in and decimate your forces whilst he got on with what he was planning elsewhere.” Morris opened his mouth to interject but was silenced when the Doctor held his hand up. “I know the Master was seen here, but I imagine he’s long gone now, most probably while your chaps were tied up with the Autons. It seems he has been transferring energy over here to run the operations and activate the Autons. Unfortunately, I can’t trace the energy back to its source. He’s covered his tracks rather well.”

“Can’t you trace the energy source or anything?” Morris asked, slinging his gun over his shoulder.

“Well, I can certainly try, Will.” The Doctor replied. “It might take a bit of time though.”

“No worries, Doctor, we’ve a bit of mopping up to do here.” Morris said, nodding to Lovatt and leaving the office, unaware that a small camera was observing him and the rest of the office, hidden as it was, in the top corner of the room.

*

Andrea Rogers drove the silver Bentley Turbo R through the quiet early morning streets of London. Sat in the back, the Master looked at the images that were being relayed from the camera in the Rutilus Allec office to his watch, whilst puffing on a cigar. Snapping the cover closed, he threw his head back and laughed.

[Fitz Kreiner]

Jess stretched and stifled a yawn. The dawn sunlight was creeping over the top of the buildings and starting to shine through the window. She was sat in the UNIT lab having spent most of the night at the crime scene nearby. A Police cordon was outside, closing the street, and tents had been erected over the where the bodies of the three kids, the tramp and two police officers had been found. Forensics and scene of crime officers had been swarming about all night.

All she and Corporal Loding had been doing while they were there was taking statements from the forensics people and investigating the shop, if it could have been called a shop. It had been full of shop mannequins, which had caused Jess’ heart to skip several beats when the door had been opened. Each mannequin had been thoroughly examined by Loding and herself, but there hadn’t been any sight of a stamp for either Rutilus Allec or Les Plastiques Maîtrisent. It still hadn’t made Jess feel any better, and after a quiet word with Loding, the Corporal had arranged for the mannequins to be locked somewhere secure.

It had been when a lorry had arrived at the rear of the shop and two large men got out, that Jess first noticed the time; two A.M. The two men had been questioned by Loding and Jess; they were nothing more than delivery men, working for a well known delivery company, and had been hired to collect the mannequins and deliver them to shops across the South-East. Unfortunately, neither man knew who had hired them. Notes had been made to check up with the company when they got back to HQ.

Loding had tried at various times through the night to both radio in and call the Camden HQ, but so far had had no luck. Jess could only assume that Tom had as of yet had not succeeded in repairing the sabotage at HQ. Still, she was back there now, and there had been no sight of him. She’d been told by the private guarding the cellar that he was still down there and hadn’t appeared all night.

Jess was now sat with her back to the window, feeling the morning sun on her back. She’d spent the rest of the night, minus the time she’d spent catching up on some sleep, pouring over lists and piles of books under the flickering light of a lantern and candles. She’d gotten bored with the shop and decided under her own initiative to look up the list of names of the cabinet ministers and other important people that the Doctor had suspected of being killed by the Autons and Master. Something worried him about them and that worried Jess, she was adamant that she would find some link between the names. After all, there was little else she could do at the shop that Loding couldn’t do, and Tom was busy in the cellar and the Doctor and the rest of the UNIT lot were at a factory somewhere in London.

So far, Jess had spent several hours and her eyes were starting to hurt. She was close to giving up when she spotted the link. There was only one exception to the rule as far as she could see, but the rest linked up. It was the best link that she’d come up with all night. Grabbing the phone, she was met with the dead sound of no line, the only thing she could do was contact Corporal Loding. Jumping to her feet, Jess ran from the room.

Turning out of the reception of UNIT HQ and onto one of the main Camden streets, Jess soon found herself swept away with the already bustling crowds. Cars swept up and down the roads, not fast, but a steady stream. A few cars and taxis lined the side of the road, dropping off or waiting to pick people up. One car, out of them all, seemed rather out of place. A new Bentley Turbo R in highly polished silver caught her eye. It seemed rather ostentatious amongst the rest of the vehicles in the area. Turning back to join the throng of people on the street, Jess found herself colliding with a man dressed in a sharp, smart suit.

“Oh, I am sorry,” she apologised, stepping round the man and taking a brief look at him.

Nodding curtly, the man looked her up and down. “Yes, that’s quite alright, Miss.” He said.

Jess made to walk back down the street when she paused and looked back at the man. His dark suit was crisp and smart, almost impeccable, almost black. Underneath his suit, he was wearing a grey shirt with dark blue silk tie and matching handkerchief, folded to a point, sticking out of the breast pocket. His dark hair, greying at the sides, was swept back, revealing his high forehead and widow’s peak. Under his dark eyebrows, two dark brown eyes swept the street. He had a neatly trimmed goatee beard, going to a point at his chin, flecked with silver.

There was something about the man that stopped Jess. He reminded her greatly of someone, someone she could remember at the back of her mind. Her eyes widened as the realisation sunk in; the Master. Surely it couldn’t be? He was certainly not the man she met on Autrion, but there was something about the man’s demeanour, his voice and his appearance that screamed to her of the Master. As she watched, the man glanced around the street again as he stood beside the Bentley and reached out to the door. His deep brown eyes locked onto Jess’ and she felt a shiver run through her. Looking away, the man opened the car door and climbed into the back.

The door slammed closed and Jess saw the indicator flash as the car prepared to pull out into the stream of traffic. Looking round, almost panicked, Jess spotted a Hackney Carriage sat on the side of the road, the driver was sat inside, a cigarette in his mouth, reading The Sun. Dashing over, she yanked the door open and scrambled inside.

“Where to, Miss?” The driver asked, folding his paper and setting it down on the seat beside him.

Pointing to the Bentley, now pulling into the traffic, Jess slammed the door closed behind her. “Please, follow that car,” she cried.

Turning in his seat, Rutunga Mbutu smiled a brilliant white smile at Jess, his pearl white teeth contrasting with the ebony of his skin. “Missy,” He grinned. “You not know how long I wait to hear them words.”

With the roar of the engine, Mbutu pulled the taxi out into the traffic, several cars behind the Master’s Bentley and followed it down the road.

*

Private Harris sat asleep on a chair outside the door to the cellar, her arms folded and her legs outstretched. Her head lolled down onto her chest as she breathed softly. She’d been asked to guard the cellar whilst the Doctors assistant, Tom, worked on the fuse box. She’d seen nothing of anyone all night, and this was a rather quiet way to spend the night shift. A loud clang from the cellar woke her with a start.

Glancing round, she made sure that no senior officer was nearby watching her sleep on duty. It was the first time it had every happened, but at least nobody had been there to see it. Another clang came from the cellar and Harris cautiously opened the door. The dim light of the lantern still burnt down below and some mutterings could be heard from the Doctor’s friend. He was still down there working.

There was a sudden dull clunking sound and the strip lighting flickered on and the corridor was bathed in white artificial light. Harris looked around as the red lights on the CCTV cameras started blinking again and the hum of the air conditioning filled the air.
Heavy footsteps came from behind the door as it opened revealing Tom, in one hand he had the lantern and in the other, a large toolbox. Smudges of oil and dirt marked his face, yet his hair still seemed immaculately held back.

“Is that it?” Harris asked.

“For now,” he replied placing the toolbox on the floor and turning the lantern off. “Just the operations room to go now. Make sure that door is properly locked and then you can go.”

Harris watched as he picked up the toolbox and walked off down the corridor. She wasn’t sure why he was being so short, maybe it had been hours working in a cellar all night. Shrugging it off, Harris picked up the chair and replaced it in the reception area where she’d got it from.

“I see we’re back up and running.”

Harris turned at the voice: the reception girl was sat at the computer, tapping away at the keyboard. “For now,” she replied. “Have any of the others checked back in?”

“Not that I know of,” the girl replied. “I only got in ten minutes ago.”

“Well, let me know,” Harris said. “I’ll be in recs.”

*

The taxi bumped over the speed bumps as Jess held onto the yellow plastic handle bolted just beside the door. The Master’s Bentley was two cars ahead, as Jess had instructed Mbutu to follow with some cars in between. He had been initially sceptical but had agreed. Jess kept seeing his eyes glance at her in the rear view mirror as they drove. They were heading out of the centre of London and to where, she wasn’t quite sure. They’d been driving some time and the meter was starting to mount up.

“You sure you got money for this, Miss?” Mbutu asked glancing back at her.

Reaching into her pocket, Jess pulled out her UNIT ID. “I’m part of UNIT,” she said, showing the card. “If you follow that car to where it’s going, wait for me and then take me back, we’ll pay you double the meter.”

This news made Mbutu grin widely. “You sure, Miss? I never heard this UNIT ‘fore.”

“Need to know,” Jess winked as Mbutu swung the car round a corner.

“We heading to a industrial estate, Miss,” Mbutu said glancing back. “We gonna get less cars to cover us.”

“Drop back as far as you can, then. Just make sure we don’t lose that car.”

“Why, what be so ‘portant ‘bout this car?”

“The man inside it; we’re investigating him and I spotted him without my own transport.” Jess paused as she considered what she was saying. “So that kinda makes you my unofficial driver and part of an important mission.”

Mbutu grinned again as he tugged on the wheel and swerved the car round a corner. The Masters car was now disappearing round another corner up ahead. Mbutu had been right; there were now no cars between them and the Master. They were now into a large industrial estate with large office buildings and factories. Jess did a double take when she caught a glimpse of a sign out of the corner of her eye; “Les Plastiques Maîtrisent”.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the sign, it was to her right, but ahead of them. It had to be the only place that the Master was heading. She couldn’t see the Master’s car up ahead any more, but Mbutu seemed to know still where he was going. She seemed lost in the maze of roads, especially as she’d been looking out of the window at the “Les Plastiques Maîtrisent” sign on the side of the building. She became aware of the car rolling to a stop and she looked round to the driver’s seat.

“Sorry, Miss,” Mbutu said sadly, turning in the seat to find her. “I lost him.”

“I think I know where he’s going,” Jess said leaning forwards towards the Perspex partition behind the driver’s seat. “You think you can find that place?” She asked, pointing to the building.

“You be sure that where you man go?” He asked.

“Positive,” Jess replied. “But to be on the safe side, pull up outside, don’t go in.”

Nodding, Mbutu turned the wheel and set the car back into motion. After several long minutes, they were sat on the road outside the factory car park. The silver Bentley was sat incongruously in the car park, next to an MG convertible. A sign on the wall above the convertible indicated that the parking space was reserved for M. Lemaitre. It seemed odd that the owner of the factory’s car was less grand than that parked beside it.

Jess glanced at the meter. It now read £26.60. “If you can wait for me to come back, there’s another fifty pounds in the fee for you.” Jess said, hoping that UNIT would reimburse the cost of the taxi far before pausing. “And if I’m not back in fifteen minutes, let UNIT know where I am.”

“You got it, Missy,” Mbutu grinned as Jess opened the door and jumped out.

Mbutu watched as Jess made her way cautiously across the car park, looking around all the time she jogged across. As he watched, she reached the reception doors and with a last conspiratorial glance around the car park, she disappeared inside. Shrugging to himself about the girls strange behaviour, Mbutu picked up his paper and opened it where he’d left it. Shifting himself into a comfier position in his seat, he settled down to wait for his strange fare.

*

Jess straightened up as she entered the reception area and glanced around for some signs to tell her where she wanted to go. A map was bolted to the wall to one side, between two lush pot plants. Beside the map was a key, listing all the sections of the office and factory. Spotting it, Jess walked over and studied the map. She could see a CCTV camera blinking at her out of the corner of her eye, but ignored it. Spotting what she was looking for, Jess smiled as she heard a shuffling behind her.

Turning, Jess saw a security guard stood looking at her from behind his desk, his eyebrow raised quizzically. “Can I help you, Miss?” He asked.

Pulling her UNIT ID out of her pocket, she showed it to the guard. “UNIT, here to see Monsieur Lemaitre.”

“Oh, of course Miss,” the Guard nodded indicating to a pair of double doors to the left of the reception. “Through those door, second on the left, up the stairs and straight on.”

“Thanks,” Jess smiled and turned to follow the man’s directions.

When she was sure she was out of sight, she tried one of the doors on the corridor. The first she found was nothing more than a cleaner’s cupboard, complete with mops, buckets, vacuum cleaner, chamois leathers and numerous bottles of cleaning solution. Many of the doors she tried were locked; several had glass partitions showing their occupants busy working, either at their computers or on the telephone. One of the doors led to a conference room. The white board at the far end still had writing on, outlining the distribution of products. Jess didn’t know what sort of product, but if the Master was involved, the chances are it wasn’t good.

Turning at the sound of a door opening, Jess saw two men in overalls walking down the corridor, busy talking. Both men were wearing yellow hard hats and had ear protectors round their necks. Walking back the way she’d came, Jess retraced her steps to the stairs and quickly climbed them. She soon found herself in a large admin. block. Walking through, as the guard had instructed, Jess found herself in a separate office. The woman behind the desk looked up as Jess entered.

“Can I help you?” Andrea Rogers asked.

Jess held out her hand, which still held the UNIT ID. “Jess Lawton, from UNIT. I’m here to see your boss.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrea said. “I’m afraid Monsieur Lemaitre is in an important call and cannot be disturbed at the moment. You’re welcome to wait, but I don’t know how long he’s likely to be.”

Jess thought about what the Doctor had said about Lemaitre, and how he couldn’t have been the Master. “No, not Monsieur Lemaitre,” she replied, thinking on her feet. “Your real boss; the Master.” She knew she’d hit the nail on the head when she saw Andrea’s eyes widen.

“Erm, I’m not too sure what you mean,” Andrea started back peddling.

“Yes you do,” Jess pressed, “dark blue business suit, swept back hair, beard,”

She had just finished her brief description when a door behind Andrea’s desk, which she hadn’t seen before, as it was expertly concealed in the wall panels, opened and a figure was outlined in its open frame. She knew it was the Master before he stepped out into the light. Jess swallowed hard as her eyes met the brown eyes that returned her look.

“Thank you, my dear,” the Master said looking at Andrea before returning his gaze to Jess, stepping back and indicating the open door. “Perhaps you had better step this way, Miss Lawton.”

[Fitz Kreiner]

The Master was sat back in his office behind his desk. The large wall section had slid back revealing the monitors that adorned the wall behind it, showing the CCTV footage from throughout the factory. He had seen the girl who had followed him in a taxi from Camden enter and talk to the security guard at the reception. She had a UNIT pass, yet she didn’t seem military or trained. She had to be another of the Doctors companions.

He had watched with some curiosity as she explored the downstairs of the offices. She had clearly spun the guard a line and was now exploring off her own back. She didn’t know what it was she was looking for otherwise she would have gone straight there. Although the Master knew that she had to know he was there, after all, she had followed him here. She would come up soon enough.

Sitting back in his chair, the Master moved the copy of The Times off the large bronze edged mahogany box that sat off the desk and then removed the top of the box and removed one of the Cuban cigars from within. He would have to nip back to Cuba soon to restock his supply and catch up with Fidel again. Mentally, he made the note to nip back to sixties Cuba when he retrieved his TARDIS. Clipping the end of the cigar, he picked out one of the Arcturan matches that sat on his desk and lit it. The match flared with a green glow accompanied by the rather bizarre smell of cinnamon that the Arcturan matches emitted. The Master preferred those matches, mainly for the cinnamon smell that they seemed to emit.

Taking his first puff of the new cigar, the Master turned back to the screens. The girl was now walking through the outside administration area towards Andrea Rogers’ office. She was no doubt now coming to confront him. The Doctor seemed to like these headstrong girls who went off and did their own thing. More often than not, they seemed to put themselves into danger for him without being asked, as this girl was doing now.

Picking up the remote control, the Master put the image of Andrea’s office onto the main screen and clicked the sound button to listen in to the exchange.

“Can I help you?” Andrea was asking, looking up as the girl entered.

The girl held up a UNIT ID card. “Jess Lawton, from UNIT. I’m here to see your boss.” She said.

The Master listened to the exchange as it happened. The girl clearly knew her stuff; the Doctor had trained her well. The Master smiled and found himself chuckling slightly as the girl pressed Andrea, even using his name. Putting his cigar down and pressing the button on the remote that concealed the monitors, the Master got to his feet and crossed to the door and opened it. He saw the girls eyes widen as he stepped out of his office.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said, looking down to Andrea. Turning, he looked back at the girl. “Perhaps you had better step this way, Miss Lawton?” He said stepping aside and gesturing into his office.

Obligingly, Jess cautiously stepped forwards. Her eyes told the Master that she knew she had little choice and that to run would be futile. Even so, she had come here to find him, the least he could do was hear what story she’d come up with. The Master watched as Jess entered his office. When she was inside he leant over to Andrea.

“I wish to see Lemaitre in my office immediately. I don’t care what he’s doing, he can cancel it.” He whispered.

“Yes Master,” Andrea agreed, getting to her feet and making her way towards the doors to Lemaitre’s office.

Turning back to his office, the Master closed the door behind him as he entered. Jess was stood in the middle of the room, wringing her hands nervously. As the door closed, she visibly jumped and turned round, looking at the Master, her eyes wide.

“Oh, don’t be frightened, my dear Miss Lawton.” The Master smiled as he rounded his desk and took his seat. Leaning on his desk with his elbows, he steepled his fingers and leant forward, looking up at Jess through his eyebrows. “It is Miss Lawton, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Jess said cautiously, not too sure what the Master wanted or even how he knew her name; unless he’d overheard her talking to Andrea.

“Please, take a seat and tell me; what can I do for you?” The Master smiled, gesturing to the seat opposite him and sitting back in his leather executive chair.

“Thank you,” Jess said, gingerly taking the seat. “Well, as you probably already know, I’m here from UNIT,” she started. “I’ve just been sent by my superiors to check on our projects here.”

Looking at her, the Master raised an eyebrow and leant forwards again. “My dear Miss Lawton, surely you know that Captain Morris was here yesterday. Did he not learn all you needed?”

“No, I’m from a branch higher than Captain Morris, he represents us.” Jess said, thinking fast and hoping that her bluff was fooling the Master. So far he didn’t seem to be acting hostile, far less so than when she last met him.

“I take it you mean the Doctor by that remark?” The Master said casually, picking up a cigar from the ashtray where it was resting on his desk.

Jess felt her eyes widening, had she been that obvious? Her heart was thumping in her chest and her mouth went dry. It was highly possible that the Master knew that she was friends with the Doctor, but she wanted to try to get the bluff going for as long as she could. Still, she knew that the taxi driver knew where she was, and she’d left instructions with him to call UNIT if she was much longer. Whether he knew where or how to contact UNIT she wasn’t sure but at least someone knew she was there.

“I’m not part of a medical team.” She said, pleased with the speed of her reply. “I’m with the technical and science side. I’m here to check on the status of the training dummies and their feasibility for further uses.”

The Master smiled upon hearing this and sat back, his cigar clamped between his teeth. “Well, I must say you’re a remarkable young lady,” he said, removing the cigar mid sentence and blowing the smoke up into the air. “You appear to be in only your early twenties and yet you’re a high ranking scientific advisor to UNIT?”

“What can I say?” Jess smiled, feeling a little more confident. “I’m a fast learner.”

“Then surely you should have learnt not to walk alone into the lion’s den?” The Master retorted. “I’d have thought that the Doctor would have taught you better than that.”

“I told you, I’m not part-” Jess began before the Master held his hand up interrupting her.

“You’re not part of a medical team, yes.” He finished for her. “Yet you seem to have overlooked the fact that Doctor is a title not solely for the use of medical personnel. You forget that a lot of scientists who have a PhD are referred to as doctors, as is your travelling companion.”

“Ah,” Jess said simply, realising she hadn’t been quite as clever as she thought and the Master had seen through her. She felt her shoulders droop as she realised she’d backed herself into a corner. “Well, it was worth a shot.” She sighed.

“Indeed it was, Miss Lawton,” the Master chuckled sitting back in his chair, resting his hands on the arms and interlocking his fingers. “So why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re here. Surely the Doctor didn’t send you here alone?”

“No,” Jess admitted. “He doesn’t know I’m here.” She paused before looking up at the Master. “How did you know that I travelled with him?”

The Master laughed, throwing his head back and his chair leaned back with him. “My dear, who else’s curiosity would have rubbed off on you like that; to drop everything and follow a curiosity? I assume from your choice of pursuit vehicle that not even the UNIT grunts know where you are?”

“I think you’re being rather unkind, calling them ‘grunts’,” Jess said, realising how silly her sentence sounded as soon as she said it and considering to whom she was talking. “They’re rather more intelligent than you give them credit for. Captain Morris, for instance, he’s-”

“The good Captain is as blind and stupid as the rest of the ignorant primitives on this planet.” The Master said, the smile fading from his face. “How pathetic must these humans be if they cannot see what is right under their noses?”

“Hey, I resent that,” Jess said, pursing her lips into a scowl. “I’m one of these pathetic humans, and here I am right here in front of you. And I want you to know, I know what it is you’re planning, with your killing of high ranking officials and unknowns replacing them. They’re your Auton replica’s aren’t they?”

The Masters smile returned as he regarded Jess. Slowly, he pulled his chair up to the desk and rested his arms on the mahogany top before him. “Yes,” he mused slowly. It wasn’t an answer to the question, merely a moment of realisation. “I can see why the good Doctor would have chosen you.”

“I do hope you’re not patronising me,” Jess said, glaring at the Master and folding her arms.

“My dear Miss Lawton,” the Master said holding his hands up in mock horror. “I wouldn’t even dare. When I say that you are a remarkable young lady, I do mean that you are a remarkable young lady.”

Jess pulled herself up to her full height as best as she could, as she was sat in a chair facing the large desk. She wasn’t too sure where to go from here; she knew that she was meeting the Master in an earlier point in his life to the last time she met him. Although what had happened between them, the Doctor had said she must never know. Well, now, after six months, she would find out. “So what are you going to do with me? I know you’re not going to kill me.”

“A very shrewd observation,” the Master chuckled clasping his hands together and leaning back in his chair. “You are correct on all counts. From your presence here I am assuming that you’ve told no one of your discovery yet, otherwise you wouldn’t be alone. You’re far too valuable to me for me to kill and you know far too much. Had you been simply a UNIT operative, yes, but you,” the Master pointed a finger at Jess. “You being a travelling companion of the Doctor are now invaluable to me.”

Jess swallowed hard as the Master pointed to her. She had no idea what the Master was planning now, but she now knew that she was invaluable to him. No doubt he was plotting some other ghastly trap to lure the Doctor into danger using her as bait. “So what are you going to do with me?” She asked.

The Master stared at Jess, directly into her eyes. She felt a shiver start at the base of her spine working its way up to her shoulders and finally up her neck and into her head and she shuddered. The sound of the door opening behind her made the Master shift his gaze and Jess felt herself visibly relax. She turned to look at who was entering; the blonde receptionist that she’d spoken to outside and a smallish man with thinning dark hair. He was wearing a grey pinstripe suit with a brown shirt and red tie. The clothes didn’t look right on him, but that wasn’t all. His eyes looked dark with large bags under them. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days.

The woman, Jess finally got a chance to look at her properly, having been more interested in finding the Master when she first met her. Her blonde hair was held back in a pony tail and her bright blue eyes looked out through a pair of glasses. She had a blank expression on her face, and was wearing a grey trouser suit with a crisp white blouse underneath the jacket. She stood a bit behind the man, near the door, with her hands held behind her back.

“Oui, Master,” the man said.

Jess knew now that this was Lemaitre, the factory owner. Probably all but in name now that the Master was here. She took another look at the man’s eyes, they seemed glazed; he was probably under the Master’s control. Hypnosis, she suddenly remembered with a shudder. She had to be on her guard. She turned back in her chair to look at the Master as he spoke.

“Lemaitre, we have a guest here, very soon I shall want you to escort her from the building and see that she returns safely to her UNIT comrades.” The Master paused and looked at Jess. “You have no reason to worry, my dear Miss Lawton, we won’t harm you.”

Jess shifted uncomfortably in her chair. There was something about the Master’s voice and the way he spoke that set her on edge. She didn’t quite, no; couldn’t believe him when he said that. Not unless he was a very different man to the one she met on Autrion those months back.

Slowly the Master got to his feet and placed both hands flat on the desk before him and leant over to Jess, fixing her eyes firmly with his. Jess shrank back as far as she could in her chair. The Master’s face was one of pure malice and Jess found herself trembling under his gaze.

“You know who I am, don’t you, Miss Lawton.” He said. It was definitely a rhetorical question, but Jess nodded none the less. “I am the Master, and you will obey me. You will obey; you will listen to the sound of my voice and obey.”

Jess found her eyes widening and started to feel light headed. It didn’t take her long to realise what was happening; he was trying to hypnotise her again. She was adamant that it would not happen this time. Swallowing hard, she struggled to close her eyes as she found herself almost getting swallowed in the Master’s dark brown eyes. Gritting her teeth, she sucked air into her mouth as she tried to resist.

“No, I will not. I am Jessica Lawton, a free person; nobodies tool.” She managed to utter. She was vaguely aware of the Master’s voice rising. “The Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up the water spout, down came the rain and flushed the spider out, out came the sun and dried up all the rain, the Isty Bitsy Spider climbed up the spout again.” Jess suddenly got the feeling of returning to earth, as if she had just woken up after nearly nodding off to sleep. She could see a change come over the Master’s face, from malice to confusion and then to anger.

“Enough!” The Master bellowed, slamming his hand down on the desk. The noise made Jess jump. Fuming the Master walked round the desk and stood before Jess. “And what the devil was all that nonsense?”

“Counter conditioning,” she replied smugly. “You’re not gonna get me with hypnosis again.” The smile faded from her face as she realised she probably shouldn’t have added the last bit.

“Again?”

Too late, the Master had picked up on it. Jess looked up at him. He seemed to be staring off into the distance, thoughtfully stroking his beard.

“How interesting,” he mused before turning to Andrea and nodding. Andrea pulled a small black control device out of her trouser pocket and pressed one of the buttons on it as the Master continued. “Very well, my dear; if hypnosis won’t work, then I have another task for you to undertake for me.”

Jess felt her bravado slip down another notch. She had gotten herself in above her head here. She wished that she’d had someone to tell where she was. She had no idea whether the Doctor, Tom or any of the UNIT personnel knew where she was, let alone she’d gone anywhere. The sound of the door opening again made her turn. Two of the shop mannequin creatures the Doctor had called Autons had entered the office.

“If you’re going to be stubborn enough to resist hypnosis, then I have no other option.” The Master snapped his fingers and the two Autons approached the chair Jess was sat at and grabbed her arms, pulling her to her feet. “Lemaitre, take this young woman down to the floor. I want a facsimile made of her immediately, and send it back to UNIT. I want it conditioned to kill all who stand in our way."

[Fitz Kreiner]

“Facsimile? What do you mean? What are you going to do with me?” Jess managed to splutter after several seconds whilst struggling against the strong grip the Autons were holding her by.

Calmly, the Master strode around the desk, his hands held behind his back. Reaching out, he picked up a cigar from where it rested on the ash tray and took a slow, leisurely puff, watching the smoke as it curled up towards the ceiling. Finally he turned to Jess and smiled.

“You see, my dear Miss Lawton, had you been kind enough to allow yourself to succumb to my hypnosis techniques then I would simply have allowed you to return to UNIT. However, as you seem intent to hinder my moves then somewhat more drastic measures are called for.” Pausing, the Master took another puff of the cigar and placed it down. “No,” he said turning to face her. “You shall be taken down to the factory floor where an exact facsimile will be made of you and sent back to UNIT in your place. You, meanwhile, will remain here to help support and provide the memory prints for the facsimile.”

Jess swallowed hard. She wasn’t to be killed, just copied. She still didn’t like the sounds of it, she had no idea whether the process would be painful or not. At the very least, she knew that somehow her entire memory print was to be taken, which mean that she had to have a scan or something. The thought of that didn’t exactly fill her with much confidence.

“Take her,” the Master commanded, snapping his fingers.

Jess found herself being half marched, half dragged by the two Autons, following Lemaitre from the office. She saw Andrea smile slightly as she was dragged passed her. A sudden thought came to Jess as she was dragged towards the office doors; what would the people in the administration area make of the Autons, unless they too were under the Masters’ control. She was surprised when their route took her through a door she hadn’t noticed before and into a hidden lift.

As the lift jolted and clanked its way down to the ground floor, Jess toyed with the idea of trying to talk to Lemaitre, see if she could create a connection between the two of them. However, if the man was indeed under a hypnotic influence, courtesy of the Master then conversation would most probably be somewhat on the lacking side. She’d have probably got a better conversation from a Dalek, or one of the Autons.

She was still contemplating this thought when she was lead out of the lift and down another short corridor and outside the building. Walking along ahead, Lemaitre seemed to be leading Jess and the Autons towards another building. Jess could already see that there were security notices hanging around it and a large “No Entry” sign above the door.

Struggling against the unrelenting grip of the two Autons, Jess found herself getting taken ever closer to the building where she no long had any doubt, would be where she would be copied by the creatures.

*

Rutunga Mbutu shifted in his seat and folded over the last page of his paper. He’d lost track of the time he’d been sat waiting for the girl who had hired him and offered him double the fare. He glanced up at the meter. It was now reading £39.80. It was certainly going to be a profitable day, especially as this girl was his first fare of the day. Reaching down, Mbutu picked out another cigarette from the carton and popped it into his mouth. He shook the near empty packet and mentally made a note to buy another pack of twenty Richmond when he was near a shop. Patting his shirt pockets for his lighter, he looked down the cab of the Taxi. Eventually he discovered it, sat in the foot well beside his seat.

Sitting up straight, he flicked open the top of the silver Zippo lighter and struck the flame up. His eyes widened and the cigarette drooped in his mouth as his eyes fell onto the sight in the grounds of the factory his fare had gone into. The girl, unmistakable with her raven black hair, was being dragged across the grounds by two large, bald thugs in boiler suits, being led by a short man in a business suit. Reaching down, Mbutu grabbed the rubber covered wooden handle of the weapon he kept beside his seat at all times. After all, he could never be too certain.

Pushing open the car door, Mbutu climbed out of the car, hefting the cricket bat and ran towards the factory. Wielding the bat, Mbutu swung it at the back of one of the bald men.

“You so big, pickin’ on girl? You pick on someone you own size.” Mbutu stopped when he caught sight of the other bald man as it turned to face him, letting Jess go. Its face was blank, with no eyes, or any discernable features. It was a mannequin.

As Mbutu watched, the bald man raised its arm and held its hand out. The fingers dropped away and a short stubby tube emerged from the hand. Mbutu’s eyes widened as the figure raised its hand and pointed the tube at him.

“Careful, that’s a weapon,” Jess shouted, from where she was picking herself up.

Swinging his cricket bat, Mbutu brought the Willow bat down onto the dummies arm, knocking it down as there was a soft explosion from the tube like weapon. Its gun off target, the back of the Auton Mbutu had knocked down exploded in a mass of molten plastic. Mbutu looked down, shocked as the fallen Aton’s head and shoulders disintegrated.

“Come on, don’t just stand there. Run while we have the chance.”

Mbutu looked up as Jess ran at him grabbing his arm and pulling him along with her. Taking a last look around, Mbutu saw the man in the suit up ahead had stopped and was moving towards him. The plastic creature that was still standing was turning towards him, its hand rising again. Mbutu didn’t need telling twice and set off at a sprit after Jess. The girl was already several yards ahead of him, but the fear drove him to close the gap on her.

Several smoky explosions erupted about him as he heard the strange sound of the creature’s weapon fire. As he ran, Mbutu threw his arms over his head until he reached the taxi and dived inside. He heard the door behind him slam closed and jumped when he heard something impact against the Perspex partitioning behind his head. Fearing that the girl had been shot, he looked around. Her hands were up against it and there was a look of horror on her face.

“Quick, drive,” she cried. “Get us the hell outta here. Back to where you picked me up.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice, missy.” Mbutu said, revving the engine and setting off at speed.

Turning a tight circle, Mbutu saw the plastic creature running towards the edge of the car park, its arm outstretched as it fired at the taxi. He heard the girl in the back let out a short shriek as the rear window shattered over her in an explosion of glass.

In his rear view mirror, he saw the girl, her hands over her head protectively and covered in glass, almost falling over as Mbutu swerved round a corner, cutting in front of a lorry that was about to pull out onto the mini roundabout. Mbutu swore softly as the lorry driver flashed his lights and hit the horn, sticking his finger up at him out of the window. Waving an apology, Mbutu stepped his foot down onto the accelerator. It wasn’t long before he had the taxi out into thicker traffic and had to slow down.

He took another glance in his rear view mirror and then wing mirror. There was something bothering him about the traffic behind him. There seemed to be a car following them, swerving back and forth as if they were trying both to keep an eye on the vehicle and stay out of sight at the same time. Turning, Mbutu turned a corner at a junction, keeping his eye on the mirror. Sure enough, the car turned with them. He swallowed hard, hoping he was being paranoid.

“I hate to say this, Missy,” he said glancing over his shoulder. “But I think we bein’ follo’d.”

Jess spun in her seat to try to see. She wasn’t sure which car Mbutu meant. Surely it couldn’t have been the car directly behind her; there was a woman behind the wheel with an infant in the back. Behind that, well, Jess couldn’t see very well, it kept swerving back and forth, as if the driver wasn’t too sure of themselves. Squinting, Jess tried to look through the windows of the car behind to see the driver but it was nigh on impossible. The only explanation she could think of was Lemaitre or the Auton had jumped into a car and was following her. She could think of only one reason why they would be doing that; to kill her.

“You have to lose him; I don’t care how you do it, but lose him.” She cried, turning back to Mbutu.

“No problem, Missy,” Mbutu grinned. “I know me city like back of me hand.”

*

“She escaped?” The Master boomed getting to his feet.

Andrea Rogers shuffled her feet uncomfortably and shrank back from him on the other side of the desk. “Monsieur Lemaitre said that she had an accomplice, a man who attacked the Autons, with a cricket bat.”

“A cricket bat?” the Master bellowed, almost disbelieving of the word. “And did that imbecile Lemaitre not think to intervene?”

“He didn’t say, Master.” Andrea said sheepishly.

The Master snapped his head up and looked at Andrea. Slowly and calmly he walked round the desk gently placed his hand on her cheek. “I do apologise my dear,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t be angry with you. After all, it’s not your fault.” Turning the Master took a step towards the monitor screens, holding his hands behind his back. “Would you please fetch me Lemaitre? I believe he has some explaining to do.”

“Yes Master.” Andrea said, smiling and turning, leaving the office and closing the door behind her.

When he knew he was alone, the Masters smiled turned down into a scowl. The girl had escaped, along with her the knowledge of parts of his plans. There was no way that he, or anyone else from the factory would be able to catch up with her now, her lead was too great, unless Lemaitre had the sense to order an Auton after her.

The Master heard the door behind him open and could sense that both Andrea and Lemaitre had entered. He remained still until he heard the door close again and then waited several seconds, enjoying the feeling, knowing that Lemaitre was already in an anxious state. Slowly the Master turned round. Lemaitre was nervously shuffling his feet and wringing his hands.

“Well?” the Master asked simply.

“Sh- She escaped Master, she had help from another man.” Lemaitre said nervously.

“And you didn’t think to stop her,” the Master purred.

“I would have, Master, but,” Lemaitre paused and looked down at the floor. “One of the originals of the UNIT facsimiles’ escaped also, I tried to stop him.”

“So not only has the girl who discovered what we were up to escaped, but now you’re telling me that you let another prisoner escape and not only endangered our Facsimile infiltrators but has jeopardised out entire operation?” The Master said as he walked back to his desk calmly before rounding on Lemaitre. “You’re a foolish incompetent,” he shouted reaching into his inside jacket pocket. “And your usefulness has reached its end.” His face a picture of pure anger, wrath and malice, the Master withdrew his Tissue Compression Eliminator and trained it on Lemaitre.

“No, Master, no sil vous plait!” The Frenchman begged backing away.

His lip upturning in what looked like a snarl, the Master fired the TCE gun at Lemaitre who screamed in agony as his body twisted in the deadly beam. With every single muscle in his body contracting and cramping, Lemaitre collapsed into a heap in the middle of the office.

A small smile now playing across his lips, the Master watched as Lemaitre’s body twisted and shrank as the deathly beam destroyed the cells of his body, shrinking it down to a mere six inches. When the body stopped twitching and jerking, the Master shut off his gun and put it back in his inside pocket and looked up at Andrea, his face calm and collected once again.

“Would you arrange for an Auton to come and clear that mess up?” He asked nodding to Lemaitre’s remains. “And then remove his car from the premises.”

“Yes Master,” Andrea nodded turning to leave.

Pausing, the Master turned back to her. “And activate the UNIT Facsimile’s; it looks as though we may have to advance our plan.”

*

Jess ran up the stair case and down the corridor to the lab. She had no idea where anyone was, but she thought that would be the best place to find either the Doctor or Tom. Skidding round the corner, Jess flung herself into the lab; it was empty. Realising she was out of breath, she sat down heavily on one of the chairs near the computer terminals and sighed. She’d left Mbutu downstairs, promising she’d be back down to sort payment as soon as possible.

She’d spoken to the girl at the reception desk, but she didn’t know whether Morris, Lovatt or Loding were back in HQ either. Jess had to admit, she felt sorry for the poor girl, especially after the way she’d responded to the negative replies to her questions. She told herself to go down and apologise as soon as she had found someone.

Looking up, Jess realised that the strip lighting and computer monitors were on. Tom must have got the fuses working again since she’d left. That meant that there had to be power going to the operations room. She was about to get up to try it when she became aware of a figure stood in the doorway. Turning round she was greeted by the familiar figure of Tom.

“Oh Gods, you made me jump,” she said, putting her hand to her chest. “Thank Gods you’re here, I’ve figured it out; what the Master is up to. I just escaped from him actually.”

“Go on,” Tom urged stepping into the lab.

“Well, all these people who were killed have been replaced by relative unknowns, people who’ve come into prominence in the last few weeks or so. All except this guy who took over the police; James Duncan or whatever his name is. But the rest, they’re facsimile’s, duplicates. The Master ordered the real people killed so he could put these people into power so he can take over. It’s the only explanation.” Jess paused to take a breath, she was getting excited finally telling her conclusions to someone who wasn’t going to order her death or anything. “Anyway, I was going to tell someone when I bumped into the Master, I mean literally, and I followed him back to his base. It’s that French place, you went to with the Doctor. I’m surprised you didn’t spot him, but yeah, my taxi driver helped me when they were gonna copy me and now, well I’m back here.”

Jess breathed a sigh of relief as she looked up at Tom. His expression was blank and he was staring at her. Something suddenly sent a shiver down her spine.

“You got the phones working?” She asked.

“Yes,” Tom replied monosyllabically.

“Well, I need to contact the Doctor, or Captain Morris,” Jess said reaching for the phone.

“No,” Tom said loudly as he stepped forwards, stopping Jess in her tracks and making her turn to face him. “You have found out too much about us.”

“What-?” Jess began as Tom raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Before she knew what was happening, the plastic wires from the phone and computers whipped out and flashed around her arms and waist strapping her to the chair. She looked up as Tom took another step towards her, his arm outstretched. She watched in rapt horror as his fingers dropped away and the short gun of an Auton emerged from his hand. Against all her better instincts, Jess opened her mouth and screamed.