Post by Fitz Kreiner on Jan 12, 2011 17:57:22 GMT
Alistair was sat down in his favourite chair by the fire, dozing, and the warmth of the fireplace comfortable in the chilled December evening. It was almost too warm, as he kept nodding off slightly, despite the radio playing in the background. He’d already missed half of the program he’d put the radio on for, awakening to the news, and more nonsense about that preposterous James Duncan story. He was on the verge of nodding off again when there was a knock on the door.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it, dear,” his wife called from the kitchen.
“Ok, Doris,” he replied, getting to his feet.
Walking across to the radio, Alistair turned it off. He wasn’t bothered about this whole James Duncan thing. Something about it smelled a bit fishy to him. Turning the radio off, he could hear his wife having a conversation with someone at the door. The other person seemed as though they were confused over something, but there was something about their voice, something almost familiar.
“Alistair,” Doris called. “Alistair, there’s a young man here to see you.”
“Yes, Doris,” he said as he opened the door to his study. Doris was stood outside.
“He said something about someone called ‘The Master’,” she said quietly to him.
His blood ran cold. That was a name he hadn’t heard in some years. A name he hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with again. “Ok, I’ll see him,” he said.
He paused as soon as he saw the figure stood just inside the doorway. They were looking around the hall, but it was definitely them. It had been nearly twenty five years, and he hadn’t changed a single bit.
“Good grief,” he exclaimed stepping forwards, a smile on his face and his hand outstretched. “It’s Mr. Rowan isn’t it?”
Tom turned to face him, a smile on his face. “Hello Brigadier,” he said taking his hand and shaking it.
“I say, it’s been a long time, old fellow,” the Brigadier said.
“It has indeed,” Tom replied. “Probably longer for you though, eh?” he said looking at the Brigadier. His dark hair was now silver, and he had grown a full beard, shaved down the cheeks, also silver in colour. He still maintained his old military air, grey trousers, red waistcoat, white shirt and black and gold diagonally striped tie with a regimental crest pit badge.
“Do come in,” the Brigadier said, indicating the door to his study.
“Thanks,” Tom said, taking his hat and coat off and putting them on the coat rack near the door.
“Are you still knocking around with the Doctor?” the Brigadier asked.
“Erm, that’s a bit complicated to be honest, Brigadier,” Tom said following him into the study.
“Do explain, old boy,” the Brigadier said.
“Well,” Tom replied pacing the room. “It’s just me now,” he said finally.
The Brigadier stopped dead by a small table containing a decanter and several cut crystal glasses. “Just you?” he asked after several seconds. “You don’t mean that he’s-?”
Tom spun from where he was stood. “Oh, no, no, I don’t mean that,” he said, backpedalling. “I mean, just me here. The Doc and Jess, I don’t know where they are. The TARDIS took off without me nearly three months ago now. I don’t know what happened, I dunno why they left me here.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s a very good reason,” the Brigadier said, taking the top off the decanter and pouring measures into the two glasses. “The Doctor does often have a good reason behind what he does. Even if it doesn’t always make sense at the time.”
Tom chuckled slightly. “Yeah, he does that,” he said.
The Brigadier held out one of the glasses to Tom, offering him the drink. “Doris said you said something about the Master?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Tom said, shuffling uncomfortably. “I’ve been to see him a few times the past couple of days. I’m trying to get his help with this whole James Duncan shebang.”
“The Master?” the Brigadier asked. “He’s here?”
“In the nick,” Tom replied. “After that whole thing with the Autons in Camden back in September.”
“Ah, so that was you, eh?” the Brigadier chuckled. “I did wonder whether the Doctor was involved with that.”
“Yeah,” Tom replied. “In fact, I was the one who caught him.”
“Ah, good show,” the Brigadier said. “He’s rather the slippery customer. Although I imagine he’s getting on a bit now?”
“Hard to say,” Tom replied. “We keep meeting out of sequence.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I first met him, he’d already met me; I think it was this time and the Camden thing. So when we met him in September, it was the first time for him,” Tom said.
“I see,” the Brigadier said slowly.
“And I’ve been working with UNIT about this James Duncan thing,” Tom continued. “You see, we’ve been suspicious about him, but now Duncan is grabbing power left right and centre, UNIT’s hands are tied. But ‘cause I don’t officially exist, then I can carry on with this investigation. Although without the Doc about, I’ve no one to turn to. He’d be able to see what was what and sort it out, so I’ve had to resort to using the Master for info.”
“Not exactly the most reliable of sources,” the Brigadier said.
“Still, the only man on the planet I can turn to for these matters,” Tom said.
“Then why are you here?” the Brigadier asked, a wry smile on his face.
“Ok, one of only two,” Tom corrected himself. “I would have come sooner, but to be honest, I didn’t think about it. The Doc has loads of friends dotted around the world, but I’m never sure who knows what and who to trust. I know the Doc trusts them, but I’ve not really met them. I had a look for Harry, but he’s out of the country. When Captain Morris mentioned your name when we were talking about the Master, it hit me. You’re the only one who I can talk to about him. You know him and what he’s like. You know how to deal with him.”
“I know that when he’s involved, it’s best to leave well alone, my dear chap,” the Brigadier said indicating to the two chairs by the fire. “He’s not to be trusted, Tom.”
“He’s said he’s telling the truth here,” Tom replied, moving towards the chair. “He’s said he’s honest in his intent, that he never lied about wanting to destroy or enslave Earth. It’s as though he’s proud of it. But I kinda believe him when he says that Duncan is not meant to be the current king of England. I mean, what’s he got to gain from it?”
“Aside from a royal pardon?” the Brigadier asked raising an eyebrow. “He’s a Time Lord, one of the Doctor’s bunch. Now, I don’t pretend to know a great deal about them, but the things I do know from the Doctor is that they’re tricky sorts. The Master could still be behind all this. He and the Doctor, and the rest of your lot, can travel through time. What’s to say that he’s not already gone back in time and set all this up.”
“He’s in the nick,” Tom replied. “He’s not gone anywhere. He’d have to have thought all this through before hand, use it as a contingency plan if that’s the case. I know he’s a tricky bugger. He kidnapped Jess, used her against me and the Doctor and then tried to kill us all several times over when we first met him. He said to me that he wasn’t behind it all, and he’s even given me some information about things, some clues and stuff.”
“Probably because he knows it due to setting it up,” the Brigadier said. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe a word that man says after the times I’ve met him.”
“That’s why I’ve come to you,” Tom said. “I know you dealt with him, I know you know how he works and what he’s like. You know him better than I do. You can help me, work through all the padding to what he really means, get at the grit as it were.”
“Well, like I said,” the Brigadier said, taking a sip of whisky, “I wouldn’t trust him, not as far as I could throw the bloody fellow.”
“You don’t understand, Brigadier,” Tom sighed, finally sitting down heavily in the offered arm chair, the whisky in the glass sloshed against the sides. “As much as I hate to admit it, the Master could be my only means off this planet.”
“Now, steady on old chap,” the Brigadier said, taking a seat in the armchair opposite Tom and resting his cane against the side of the fireplace. “Are you aware of what you’re saying? You know what sort of man the Master is, and the Doctor will be back, he wouldn’t have purposefully abandoned you. That’s not him at all.”
Tom raised his eyebrow as he took a sip of the whisky. “What about the years that passed through some of the times you met him; the Yeti, Cybermen, Autons? I don’t think I can cope for years here. Not alone.”
The Brigadier looked at Tom, it had been at least twenty five years since he had last met the man, and he was still confused about the circumstances of that. He’d not been able to discuss it with the Doctor yet as he hadn’t seen the latest one since that day.
“Look, old chap,” he said, leaning forward. “I wouldn’t trust the Master, although there is certainly something, some history between him and the Doctor. There’s some there between you and the both of them as well. Now, I’m not as young as I was in those days but I’ll do all I can to help you. If you trust him,”
“I’m not saying I do,” Tom cut in. “Not totally. But I do believe him when he says things like he’s never been dishonest about his intent. He’s not lied, granted he’s not always said everything, but y’know?” Tom threw his free hand up in the air. “Oh, I don’t know.”
The Brigadier sat back. “I know what you mean. In the eleventh hour he did do what was needed to save us, such as helping the Doctor send the Nestenes back out into space, and with stopping a reactor breach when an Axon walked into it. Although, granted, that was more to save his life as well.”
“Well then, there you go,” Tom smiled. “He’s in the nick, if this country or planet goes down the pan then so does he. That’s gotta be why he’s helping, yeah? He knows that there’s something dodgy cracking off, he doesn’t want to lose his life. That’s what he was after when we first met; extending his life, although at the time, he was wanting to do that by stealing mine.”
“You’re right, he’s not one to willingly let himself go,” the Brigadier replied. “When I last met the man he wanted immortality from some dead old Time Lord chappie.”
Tom chuckled softly, “the ring of Rassilon. But that’s not the here and now, though, is it? I just want to know if you’d be able to help me.”
“Well, of course m’boy,” the Brigadier said, taking a sip of whisky. “Any friend of the Doctor is a friend of mine. Just let me know what help you want and I’ll do what I can.”
Tom paused for several seconds as he studied the liquid in his glass before downing the whole drink in one go. “We go back to the Wingmoore Institute, you persuade Crompton to let me see the Master again, you find out what Crompton knows and all that, and I’ll have another chat with the Master. We know why he’s doing it now.”
“In the morning though, I think,” the Brigadier said, taking another sip. “It’s getting late, and I doubt this Crompton fellow would appreciate us appearing at this time.”
“But that’s the fun,” Tom said. “The man is a pompous arse, he’s barred me already. He doesn’t deserve the position he has there.”
“Excuse me,” the Brigadier said holding up his hand. “But why did he bar you from that place?”
Tom looked away, ashamed. “Because I threatened the Master, tried to throttle the man.”
The Brigadier chuckled. “Done what so many other people wanted to do, eh? I’ve been there myself, gave the man one of the best upper-cuts of my life.” The Brigadier paused and leant forwards. “Although I have to ask, would you do that again? I can’t agree if you are going to throttle the man in his cell.”
“It was a moment of weakness,” Tom said. “Honest. The man was pushing me; he knows how to push my buttons in seems.”
“Then I have to ask; why do you want to go back and see him?” the Brigadier asked.
“I just have to know, what he knows about this thing,” Tom replied. “If he’s right and Duncan isn’t meant to be king, then that means something really has cocked up with time and would probably explain this niggling feeling I’ve been having at the back of my head.”
“I still wouldn’t recommend taking everything that man says as gospel though,” the Brigadier warned.
“I don’t,” Tom said. “About a kilo of salt helps with things that man says.”
“That’s the spirit,” the Brigadier smiled, reaching across to the decanter and offering to Tom.
“No, thanks,” he said. “Shouldn’t we get going?”
“I think it’s a little late for that, my dear fellow,” the Brigadier said. “I think it’s highly unlikely this Wingmoore Institute place will be letting visitors in at this hour. Best wait until morning. You can set up digs here tonight, Doris won’t mind. Have a spot of supper, good night’s sleep and then we can set at it in the morning.”
Tom smiled and nodded to his glass. “In that case, pour away,” he said. “Oh, and thanks. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Not at all,” the Brigadier smiled pouring Tom a slug of whisky. “And besides, we can pool resources’,” he added, enjoying a smile at the look on Tom’s face. “Oh, you don’t think you were the only one investigating this James Duncan, did you?”
“Well, I,” Tom faltered.
“There’s a good reason young Sullivan is out of the country,” the Brigadier smiled. “I still have the odd contact about; certain things don’t escape my attention. Oh yes, my years in service have given me contacts all over, from our mutual friend in MI6 to a very resourceful investigative journalist.”
Sir Daniel Ashfield sat forwards in his chair and placed the final file he had been reading onto the pile of read. What he had read had confirmed to him what he already anticipated. The young man, Tom Rowan, was one of the same race as the mysterious characters ‘the Doctor’ and the terrorist ‘the Master’, and they had been coming to this world for many decades; preparing it.
The files reported that the Doctor had fought the Master on this world at some point, and yet, some of the files reported that the two had known each other for some time, and would at times join together for certain things. Several of the old reports from Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart had said as much, such as when the Master had brought the alien parasite Axos to Earth. And a further report from the man mentioned how the Master had escaped his first time in prison just after the Doctor had visited him. It all seemed to fall into place for Ashfield; the two were in accomplice in some form.
Now the Doctor wasn’t present, this Tom Rowan was paying the Master visits in his cell at the Wingmoore Institute. And Rowan was an accomplice of the Doctor. It was falling into place for Ashfield. Rowan had been left on Earth, supposedly by accident, although the reports suggested that it was only by his word that it had been accidental. He was now probing into the affairs of state in a manner which begat treason. The more recent of the reports were from Captain Morris, who was supposedly in charge of Rowan told about his recent activities in probing into James Duncan, and even included copies of some emails that the man had sent. The recipients of these emails would have to be arrested for conspiracy to commit treason; he would make sure of that.
They could be left to the police. However, this Mr. Rowan, he was going to deal with personally. Leaning across his desk, Sir Daniel picked up the telephone.
“I want General Bailey to meet with me first thing in the morning,” he said after several seconds. “I don’t care what he’s got scheduled, he will cancel it; this is direct from me and Mr. Duncan himself.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it, dear,” his wife called from the kitchen.
“Ok, Doris,” he replied, getting to his feet.
Walking across to the radio, Alistair turned it off. He wasn’t bothered about this whole James Duncan thing. Something about it smelled a bit fishy to him. Turning the radio off, he could hear his wife having a conversation with someone at the door. The other person seemed as though they were confused over something, but there was something about their voice, something almost familiar.
“Alistair,” Doris called. “Alistair, there’s a young man here to see you.”
“Yes, Doris,” he said as he opened the door to his study. Doris was stood outside.
“He said something about someone called ‘The Master’,” she said quietly to him.
His blood ran cold. That was a name he hadn’t heard in some years. A name he hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with again. “Ok, I’ll see him,” he said.
He paused as soon as he saw the figure stood just inside the doorway. They were looking around the hall, but it was definitely them. It had been nearly twenty five years, and he hadn’t changed a single bit.
“Good grief,” he exclaimed stepping forwards, a smile on his face and his hand outstretched. “It’s Mr. Rowan isn’t it?”
Tom turned to face him, a smile on his face. “Hello Brigadier,” he said taking his hand and shaking it.
“I say, it’s been a long time, old fellow,” the Brigadier said.
“It has indeed,” Tom replied. “Probably longer for you though, eh?” he said looking at the Brigadier. His dark hair was now silver, and he had grown a full beard, shaved down the cheeks, also silver in colour. He still maintained his old military air, grey trousers, red waistcoat, white shirt and black and gold diagonally striped tie with a regimental crest pit badge.
“Do come in,” the Brigadier said, indicating the door to his study.
“Thanks,” Tom said, taking his hat and coat off and putting them on the coat rack near the door.
“Are you still knocking around with the Doctor?” the Brigadier asked.
“Erm, that’s a bit complicated to be honest, Brigadier,” Tom said following him into the study.
“Do explain, old boy,” the Brigadier said.
“Well,” Tom replied pacing the room. “It’s just me now,” he said finally.
The Brigadier stopped dead by a small table containing a decanter and several cut crystal glasses. “Just you?” he asked after several seconds. “You don’t mean that he’s-?”
Tom spun from where he was stood. “Oh, no, no, I don’t mean that,” he said, backpedalling. “I mean, just me here. The Doc and Jess, I don’t know where they are. The TARDIS took off without me nearly three months ago now. I don’t know what happened, I dunno why they left me here.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s a very good reason,” the Brigadier said, taking the top off the decanter and pouring measures into the two glasses. “The Doctor does often have a good reason behind what he does. Even if it doesn’t always make sense at the time.”
Tom chuckled slightly. “Yeah, he does that,” he said.
The Brigadier held out one of the glasses to Tom, offering him the drink. “Doris said you said something about the Master?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Tom said, shuffling uncomfortably. “I’ve been to see him a few times the past couple of days. I’m trying to get his help with this whole James Duncan shebang.”
“The Master?” the Brigadier asked. “He’s here?”
“In the nick,” Tom replied. “After that whole thing with the Autons in Camden back in September.”
“Ah, so that was you, eh?” the Brigadier chuckled. “I did wonder whether the Doctor was involved with that.”
“Yeah,” Tom replied. “In fact, I was the one who caught him.”
“Ah, good show,” the Brigadier said. “He’s rather the slippery customer. Although I imagine he’s getting on a bit now?”
“Hard to say,” Tom replied. “We keep meeting out of sequence.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I first met him, he’d already met me; I think it was this time and the Camden thing. So when we met him in September, it was the first time for him,” Tom said.
“I see,” the Brigadier said slowly.
“And I’ve been working with UNIT about this James Duncan thing,” Tom continued. “You see, we’ve been suspicious about him, but now Duncan is grabbing power left right and centre, UNIT’s hands are tied. But ‘cause I don’t officially exist, then I can carry on with this investigation. Although without the Doc about, I’ve no one to turn to. He’d be able to see what was what and sort it out, so I’ve had to resort to using the Master for info.”
“Not exactly the most reliable of sources,” the Brigadier said.
“Still, the only man on the planet I can turn to for these matters,” Tom said.
“Then why are you here?” the Brigadier asked, a wry smile on his face.
“Ok, one of only two,” Tom corrected himself. “I would have come sooner, but to be honest, I didn’t think about it. The Doc has loads of friends dotted around the world, but I’m never sure who knows what and who to trust. I know the Doc trusts them, but I’ve not really met them. I had a look for Harry, but he’s out of the country. When Captain Morris mentioned your name when we were talking about the Master, it hit me. You’re the only one who I can talk to about him. You know him and what he’s like. You know how to deal with him.”
“I know that when he’s involved, it’s best to leave well alone, my dear chap,” the Brigadier said indicating to the two chairs by the fire. “He’s not to be trusted, Tom.”
“He’s said he’s telling the truth here,” Tom replied, moving towards the chair. “He’s said he’s honest in his intent, that he never lied about wanting to destroy or enslave Earth. It’s as though he’s proud of it. But I kinda believe him when he says that Duncan is not meant to be the current king of England. I mean, what’s he got to gain from it?”
“Aside from a royal pardon?” the Brigadier asked raising an eyebrow. “He’s a Time Lord, one of the Doctor’s bunch. Now, I don’t pretend to know a great deal about them, but the things I do know from the Doctor is that they’re tricky sorts. The Master could still be behind all this. He and the Doctor, and the rest of your lot, can travel through time. What’s to say that he’s not already gone back in time and set all this up.”
“He’s in the nick,” Tom replied. “He’s not gone anywhere. He’d have to have thought all this through before hand, use it as a contingency plan if that’s the case. I know he’s a tricky bugger. He kidnapped Jess, used her against me and the Doctor and then tried to kill us all several times over when we first met him. He said to me that he wasn’t behind it all, and he’s even given me some information about things, some clues and stuff.”
“Probably because he knows it due to setting it up,” the Brigadier said. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe a word that man says after the times I’ve met him.”
“That’s why I’ve come to you,” Tom said. “I know you dealt with him, I know you know how he works and what he’s like. You know him better than I do. You can help me, work through all the padding to what he really means, get at the grit as it were.”
“Well, like I said,” the Brigadier said, taking a sip of whisky, “I wouldn’t trust him, not as far as I could throw the bloody fellow.”
“You don’t understand, Brigadier,” Tom sighed, finally sitting down heavily in the offered arm chair, the whisky in the glass sloshed against the sides. “As much as I hate to admit it, the Master could be my only means off this planet.”
“Now, steady on old chap,” the Brigadier said, taking a seat in the armchair opposite Tom and resting his cane against the side of the fireplace. “Are you aware of what you’re saying? You know what sort of man the Master is, and the Doctor will be back, he wouldn’t have purposefully abandoned you. That’s not him at all.”
Tom raised his eyebrow as he took a sip of the whisky. “What about the years that passed through some of the times you met him; the Yeti, Cybermen, Autons? I don’t think I can cope for years here. Not alone.”
The Brigadier looked at Tom, it had been at least twenty five years since he had last met the man, and he was still confused about the circumstances of that. He’d not been able to discuss it with the Doctor yet as he hadn’t seen the latest one since that day.
“Look, old chap,” he said, leaning forward. “I wouldn’t trust the Master, although there is certainly something, some history between him and the Doctor. There’s some there between you and the both of them as well. Now, I’m not as young as I was in those days but I’ll do all I can to help you. If you trust him,”
“I’m not saying I do,” Tom cut in. “Not totally. But I do believe him when he says things like he’s never been dishonest about his intent. He’s not lied, granted he’s not always said everything, but y’know?” Tom threw his free hand up in the air. “Oh, I don’t know.”
The Brigadier sat back. “I know what you mean. In the eleventh hour he did do what was needed to save us, such as helping the Doctor send the Nestenes back out into space, and with stopping a reactor breach when an Axon walked into it. Although, granted, that was more to save his life as well.”
“Well then, there you go,” Tom smiled. “He’s in the nick, if this country or planet goes down the pan then so does he. That’s gotta be why he’s helping, yeah? He knows that there’s something dodgy cracking off, he doesn’t want to lose his life. That’s what he was after when we first met; extending his life, although at the time, he was wanting to do that by stealing mine.”
“You’re right, he’s not one to willingly let himself go,” the Brigadier replied. “When I last met the man he wanted immortality from some dead old Time Lord chappie.”
Tom chuckled softly, “the ring of Rassilon. But that’s not the here and now, though, is it? I just want to know if you’d be able to help me.”
“Well, of course m’boy,” the Brigadier said, taking a sip of whisky. “Any friend of the Doctor is a friend of mine. Just let me know what help you want and I’ll do what I can.”
Tom paused for several seconds as he studied the liquid in his glass before downing the whole drink in one go. “We go back to the Wingmoore Institute, you persuade Crompton to let me see the Master again, you find out what Crompton knows and all that, and I’ll have another chat with the Master. We know why he’s doing it now.”
“In the morning though, I think,” the Brigadier said, taking another sip. “It’s getting late, and I doubt this Crompton fellow would appreciate us appearing at this time.”
“But that’s the fun,” Tom said. “The man is a pompous arse, he’s barred me already. He doesn’t deserve the position he has there.”
“Excuse me,” the Brigadier said holding up his hand. “But why did he bar you from that place?”
Tom looked away, ashamed. “Because I threatened the Master, tried to throttle the man.”
The Brigadier chuckled. “Done what so many other people wanted to do, eh? I’ve been there myself, gave the man one of the best upper-cuts of my life.” The Brigadier paused and leant forwards. “Although I have to ask, would you do that again? I can’t agree if you are going to throttle the man in his cell.”
“It was a moment of weakness,” Tom said. “Honest. The man was pushing me; he knows how to push my buttons in seems.”
“Then I have to ask; why do you want to go back and see him?” the Brigadier asked.
“I just have to know, what he knows about this thing,” Tom replied. “If he’s right and Duncan isn’t meant to be king, then that means something really has cocked up with time and would probably explain this niggling feeling I’ve been having at the back of my head.”
“I still wouldn’t recommend taking everything that man says as gospel though,” the Brigadier warned.
“I don’t,” Tom said. “About a kilo of salt helps with things that man says.”
“That’s the spirit,” the Brigadier smiled, reaching across to the decanter and offering to Tom.
“No, thanks,” he said. “Shouldn’t we get going?”
“I think it’s a little late for that, my dear fellow,” the Brigadier said. “I think it’s highly unlikely this Wingmoore Institute place will be letting visitors in at this hour. Best wait until morning. You can set up digs here tonight, Doris won’t mind. Have a spot of supper, good night’s sleep and then we can set at it in the morning.”
Tom smiled and nodded to his glass. “In that case, pour away,” he said. “Oh, and thanks. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Not at all,” the Brigadier smiled pouring Tom a slug of whisky. “And besides, we can pool resources’,” he added, enjoying a smile at the look on Tom’s face. “Oh, you don’t think you were the only one investigating this James Duncan, did you?”
“Well, I,” Tom faltered.
“There’s a good reason young Sullivan is out of the country,” the Brigadier smiled. “I still have the odd contact about; certain things don’t escape my attention. Oh yes, my years in service have given me contacts all over, from our mutual friend in MI6 to a very resourceful investigative journalist.”
*
Sir Daniel Ashfield sat forwards in his chair and placed the final file he had been reading onto the pile of read. What he had read had confirmed to him what he already anticipated. The young man, Tom Rowan, was one of the same race as the mysterious characters ‘the Doctor’ and the terrorist ‘the Master’, and they had been coming to this world for many decades; preparing it.
The files reported that the Doctor had fought the Master on this world at some point, and yet, some of the files reported that the two had known each other for some time, and would at times join together for certain things. Several of the old reports from Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart had said as much, such as when the Master had brought the alien parasite Axos to Earth. And a further report from the man mentioned how the Master had escaped his first time in prison just after the Doctor had visited him. It all seemed to fall into place for Ashfield; the two were in accomplice in some form.
Now the Doctor wasn’t present, this Tom Rowan was paying the Master visits in his cell at the Wingmoore Institute. And Rowan was an accomplice of the Doctor. It was falling into place for Ashfield. Rowan had been left on Earth, supposedly by accident, although the reports suggested that it was only by his word that it had been accidental. He was now probing into the affairs of state in a manner which begat treason. The more recent of the reports were from Captain Morris, who was supposedly in charge of Rowan told about his recent activities in probing into James Duncan, and even included copies of some emails that the man had sent. The recipients of these emails would have to be arrested for conspiracy to commit treason; he would make sure of that.
They could be left to the police. However, this Mr. Rowan, he was going to deal with personally. Leaning across his desk, Sir Daniel picked up the telephone.
“I want General Bailey to meet with me first thing in the morning,” he said after several seconds. “I don’t care what he’s got scheduled, he will cancel it; this is direct from me and Mr. Duncan himself.”
