Post by Fitz Kreiner on Feb 8, 2011 19:24:08 GMT
“Excuse me, sir,” Sergeant Lovatt said, knocking gently on the open door to Captain Morris’s office. “I’ve got the daily reports.”
“Yes, thank you, Sergeant,” Morris said, looking up and holding his hand out to receive the reports. “Anything worthy of noting?”
“No, sir,” Lovatt replied. “Only that Tom disappeared after going to Wingmoore yesterday and hasn’t come back yet.”
“What do you mean?” Morris asked.
“Corporal Loding took Tom to the Wingmoore Institute yesterday afternoon for another pow-wow with the Master, she says,” Lovatt explained. “She also said that he asked her to drop him off in the vicinity of sector one-zero-seven. He seemed to cross over the parklands until she lost sight of him.”
“Sector one-oh-seven?” Morris asked. “What’s out there?”
“Not much, sir,” Lovatt replied. “It’s mostly residential. Posh, but residential.”
“One-oh-seven,” Morris mused turning to look at the map pinned to the wall behind his desk. “Why would he go there? What’s there for him? I doubt he’d fit in the with locals in the pubs of that area, full of old Empire types isn’t it? All plus fours and mutton chops.”
“Probably a bit of a stereotype, sir,” Lovatt said, immediately wishing she hadn’t.
“Even so, Sergeant,” Morris replied, folding his hands behind his back and turning to face her, “they’re mostly doctors, lawyers and that lot over that way. Does he know of anyone like that he would be visiting?”
“Not off the top of my head, sir.”
“There must be a reason for it, Sergeant,” Morris said, staring off into the distance. “Unless that girl friend of his lives over that way.” Morris paused and leant on his desk, looking intently at Lovatt. “Sergeant, this may go against all regs, but there’s no hurry in reporting any of Tom’s activities to me, do you understand? The same goes for Corporal Loding.”
“Yes, sir,” Lovatt replied. “Although I thought you said the other day that you’d had orders,”
“I don’t give a damn about that,” Morris cut in, straightening up. “We’re being asked to investigate one of our own, Sergeant, and that makes me uneasy. Whoever he may be, he’s a friend of the Doctor, and that means we look out for him as much as we would one of our own.”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Lovatt asked straightening to attention.
“Of course, Sergeant.” Morris said, gesturing with his hand as he took his seat behind his desk. “You’re my number one, I respect your candour.”
Lovatt shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I met the Doctor, Tom and the girl, Jess, some time before I was transferred to your unit. Now, I don’t mean that that gives me a special insight into them, they seem to know what they’re doing and saying, however off the wall they may be.”
“Get to the point, Sergeant,” Morris said, waving his hand.
“Yes, sir,” Lovatt shifted again. “Well, I’m still not one hundred percent comfortable in reporting on one of our own, but still, we’ve been ordered to. Not only that, but you said this order came from the top. Well, with that in consideration, sir, if we disobey these orders and are found out, well, that’s all our careers down the khazi, not only that, but we could end up in prison for the rest of our lives for treason or something.”
“Yes, thank you, Sergeant,” Morris said with a sigh. “I’m not saying we disobey our orders, merely that these are not a high priority.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Corporal Loding called from the door with a brief salute.
“Yes Corporal, what can I do for you?” Morris asked with a smile.
“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” Loding said with a brief glance over to Lovatt. “General Bailey and Sir Daniel Ashfield are downstairs. Sir Daniel says he wants to speak to you on a matter of national security.”
“One thing after another,” Morris muttered as he grabbed his cap from his desk. “Did they happen to say what matter of national security?”
“Sorry, sir,” Loding replied. “I think Sir Daniel only wants to talk to you. He’s got two Red-caps with him.”
“Oh, nuts,” Morris sighed, “just what we need; the officials sticking their noses in. Alright then, you two are with me.”
“Sir,” Lovatt and Loding chorused, both snapping to attention before following Morris from his office.
Hands in his pockets, Tom strolled through the busy streets of Camden Town. The Brigadier hadn’t been able to drop him off in Camden, but had been able to drop him near to a tube station so that he could get a train to UNIT HQ.
Arriving in Camden, Tom had felt at a bit of a loose end. He didn’t want to go straight back to HQ, he was still running the events of the past twenty four hours in his head. A lot of what the Master had to say was still dashing across his mind. What he really needed was someone to talk things through with. Usually he would sit down with Jess and they’d talk through things. He missed it. The thought that he may never see either Jess or the Doctor again flashed through his head. His hearts almost missed a beat and his blood chilled at the thought.
Tom stopped, his head snapping up as a thought came to him, causing several of the Camden shoppers to bump into him, swearing at him. Ignoring them, he turned on his heel. There was someone, if only he could find them. Still, he had an idea; the Devonshire Arms, he’d met her there before, Jess’s friend. Walking back the way he had come, Tom threaded his ways through the throngs of shoppers.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Captain Morris said as he stood inside the operations room.
Sir Daniel Ashfield was sat at his desk, flicking through his files, General Bailey stood by the side of the desk, cap under his arm, his hands folded before him. The two military police were flanking the door.
“Ah, Captain Morris,” Ashfield said, looking up, “nice to see you again.”
“Sir Daniel,” Morris said, giving a quick salute.
“Please, please,” Ashfield said, gesturing for Morris to end the salute. “What I’ve come to talk to you about is a matter of extreme national security. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“We’re quite able to talk here, sir,” Morris replied, giving a quick look around the room. The two MP’s by the door were stood at ease but stony faced.
“I’d rather we didn’t talk here, if it’s all the same to you, Captain,” Ashfield said, shooting a glance to Loding and Lovatt.
“I’d like to have my senior staff present, if it’s all the same, sir,” Morris replied.
“No, I’m afraid it isn’t ‘all the same’, Captain Morris,” Ashfield said standing up. “As I told your Corporal, and you yourself, this is a matter of top national security. Now, I’ll ask again; is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Erm, yes, sir, my office,” Morris said, shifting on his feet.
“Excellent,” Ashfield said, turning to Bailey. “General, you’ll accompany us.”
“Sir,” Bailey said with a small nod of his head.
“And you two,” Ashfield said looking over to the two MP’s, “you will follow us but stay on guard outside.” The two Military Police snapped to attention without a word and saluted. “Lead the way, Captain,” Ashfield said, gesturing to the door.
With a salute, Morris turned and headed from the door, with Ashfield and Bailey following him. After the trio had left, the two MP’s shouldered their weapons and followed. For several seconds after the group had left the room, Lovatt and Loding just stared at each other.
“What do you suppose all that was about?” Lovatt asked, breaking the silence.
“Matter of national security? Military Police? Can’t talk in front of us?” Loding summarised. “My guess is, someone is in trouble.”
“Well, that’s obvious,” Lovatt replied. “Military police usually mean court martial or worse.”
“Yeah, but who?” Loding asked. “Ashfield didn’t want to talk in front of us and the General looked as though he’d had some bad news. You don’t think they’re arresting Captain Morris, do you?”
“Dunno,” Lovatt shrugged, perching on the edge of the desk she was stood by. “But then, we have been writing reports about the past couple of days?”
“Tom?” Loding asked.
“Yeah,” Lovatt replied. “I was actually talking to the Captain about him before you arrived. He still not back yet?”
“No idea,” Loding shrugged. “I took him to Wingmoore as usual, but he seemed odd and distant when he came out. Just asked to be dropped off to go for a walk; that was the last I saw of him.”
“Well, I recon that’s what it is,” Lovatt said with a nod. “They want him in for something.”
“So what do we do about it?” Loding asked.
“Nothing much we can do, but obey orders,” Lovatt replied with a shrug, “no matter how not right they may seem, otherwise we could find ourselves in the nuts as well.”
Tom downed the remains of his beer and slammed the glass down on the small table with a clunk. He’d been sat in the pub for three hours and got through a total of six pints alone and so far no one he recognised had come through the doors, least of all Kelly. Glancing down at his watch, he was grateful for his ability to metabolise alcohol fast, it was starting to get late in the day.
Getting to his feet, he pulled on his leather overcoat. As much as he didn’t want to, he decided he’d better go back to UNIT HQ. Taking another glance around the pub, Tom plonked his hat on his head and left. He mentally chastised himself for not getting contact details from Kelly. She could have been invaluable to him as a sounding board. She’d been good during the brief time they’d spent together the other day, listening to his rambling and offering some advice. Granted, she didn’t have the experience of Jess, but she certainly gave a good attempt.
There was more of a chill to the air as he left the pub. The day had brightened; the grey clouds had once again given way to a bright winter’s afternoon. His breath misted as he walked down the street. The crowds of shoppers were starting to thin out a little.
Pausing as he reached the doors to the HQ, he glanced up and down the street, peering through the crowds. There was no sight of electric blue hair anywhere; several different colours, but none that looked familiar.
Resigning himself to the fact that he’d probably not see her again, Tom shrugged to himself and turned and entered the reception foyer. With a smile, he nodded to the receptionist, who didn’t return his smile, merely watched him as he walked through towards the stairs. With another shrug, Tom pushed open the door and headed back up to the lab.
As soon as Tom was through the door, the receptionist reached across to a telephone and picked up the receiver. After several seconds, it was answered at the other end.
“Captain Morris?” she asked. “Sorry sir, is Captain Morris there? I’ve something to report to him.” Several more seconds passed before Morris’s tinny voice came through the receiver. “Reception here, sir,” the receptionist said. “You told me to report to you whenever Mr. Rowan came or went. Yes, sir, he’s just returned.”
Captain Morris pursed his lips briefly. “Thank you,” he said as he listened to the receptionist’s report. Reaching across to the desk, he put the receiver back in its cradle and looked at Sir Daniel, who was sat in his chair behind the desk. “It seems that Tom has just returned,” he reported.
“So I gather,” Ashfield replied. “You remember what I said; these are orders from Mr. Duncan himself.”
Morris shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure about this sir,” he said, addressing Bailey.
“Are you refusing to obey a direct order, Captain?” Ashfield said, getting to his feet.
“It’s not that, sir,” Morris began, “it’s just, Tom, he’s on our side, helped us.”
“He’s not one of us, man,” Sir Daniel said. “He’s an alien, one of the same lot as the Master, and he’s been spending an inordinate amount of time with that thing of late.”
“They’re the same race, yes,” Morris said, “but so is the Doctor, and he’s helped this planet so much in the past. And Tom is a friend of his.”
“But he’s not the Doctor, that’s the point,” Sir Daniel pressed, walking round Bailey. “He’s an illegal alien, in every sense of the word. We don’t know what he’s been plotting with the Master. These lights could be something to do with them. And where is the Doctor now? Both he and the Master have been coming to this planet for years, gathering information for an invasion?”
“That’s nonsense, sorry sir, but it is,” Morris protested.
“And how do we know?”
“With respect, sir,” Bailey began, causing Sir Daniel to round on him.
“General,” he warned, raising an eyebrow. “This is a command direct from the top; do I have to insight the pair of you for mutiny?”
“Tom’s helped us, sir,” Morris repeated. “So has the Doctor; they’ve fended off invasions, not aided and abetted them.”
“To save this world for themselves,” Ashfield said. “What better way to throw someone off the scent, they now know the intricacies of our planetary defences.”
“I’m sorry, but this is all bollocks,” Morris said, turning away.
“Captain, this Tom Rowan is an alien interloper,” Ashfield sat back down at the desk and placed his hand on the telephone. “He is not invited here, and he is showing no sign of a peaceful first contact. The new initiative that I instigated means that his arrest is high priority; he is a threat to the defence and security of the realm. Or do I have to pick up this telephone and have you and your staff arrested as well?”
“Very well, sir,” Morris said. He was beat and he knew it. He may not agree with Ashfield, but he had no choice.
Ashfield withdrew his hand from the telephone receiver and folded his hands on the desk. It appeared that he was making this office his own for the duration. Reaching down, he picked up his briefcase and placed it on the desk before looking back up at the two soldiers.
“Is there anything else, gentlemen?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Bailey replied.
“Very good,” Ashfield said, smiling. “Mr. Rowan is to be arrested immediately. That is why I brought the two MP’s outside, they’ll escort you.”
“Yes, sir,” Morris replied with a salute.
“That’ll be all, gentlemen,” Ashfield said, dismissing the two soldiers with a wave of his hand.
Turning, Morris and Bailey left the office, leaving Ashfield sat, smiling to himself.
“Well?” Bailey asked, a glimmer of sadness in his eye.
“I still don’t like this, sir,” Morris said.
“I know, Will,” Bailey replied. “I don’t like it either. I agree with you but orders are orders, even I’m bound by them. I’d like to help you, Will, really I would.”
“I know, sir,” Morris sighed. “I suppose I’d better make that telephone call.”
Tom rounded the corner of the corridor and walked into the front reception of UNIT HQ. The large glass windows that dominated one wall showed the dying light of the December evening, as such, it was getting rather dark in the reception area. There was now no one sat behind the desk and so there weren’t many lights on.
He hadn’t seen Morris. Something had rung an alarm bell in his mind when the Captain had called him in the lab and said that he needed to discuss something importantly. There was something in the tone of his voice. Tom checked his watch; he had received the phone call two minutes ago.
Tom tapped his fingers against the marble top of the reception desk for a few moments as he tried to make up his mind what to do. There was a part of him telling him to leave the HQ immediately, however, what if he were wrong? What if Morris had uncovered something about Duncan or the Master?
Tom turned at the sound of a door opening. He would soon get his answer, as Morris entered, with General Bailey directly behind him, two privates bringing up the rear. Something struck him about the two privates. They weren’t wearing a UNIT uniform, it was regular army. And they were wearing red caps as opposed to the usual UNIT beret. That meant one thing; military police.
“Ah, Captain,” Tom started, making his way towards the four men.
“I’m sorry about this, Tom,” Morris said.
Tom paused as he noticed the pistol held in Morris’s hand. It was pointed directly at him. Sighing, Tom nodded, his shoulders slumping in resignation. “So am I,” he said.
With a quick movement, Tom grabbed the barrel of Morris’s pistol and tugged sharply as his fist connected with the Captain’s face. Morris staggered back into Bailey, unbalancing the General. Tom stepped back, covering the four soldiers with the pistol, the two privates levelling their rifles at him.
“No,” Morris said, holding his hand up to stop the two troops.
Tom backed to the doors and reaching behind him, pulled one open before stepping through. Pulling the door closed, Tom ran, the last thing he saw, the two privates starting to make for the door. He’d got only a few yards down the road when he ran slap bang into someone. He was halfway through mumbling an apology to step round and run when he spotted the electric blue hair.
“Oh boy, glad I ran into you,” Kelly said, “I’ve something to...” she trailed off as she saw the pistol in his hand. Looking over his shoulder, Kelly saw the two soldiers emerge from the non-descript office style front of UNIT HQ, rifles in their hands.
“Later,” Tom replied grabbing her hand with his free hand. “Run,” he said setting off again, dragging the bewildered girl behind him.
“Yes, thank you, Sergeant,” Morris said, looking up and holding his hand out to receive the reports. “Anything worthy of noting?”
“No, sir,” Lovatt replied. “Only that Tom disappeared after going to Wingmoore yesterday and hasn’t come back yet.”
“What do you mean?” Morris asked.
“Corporal Loding took Tom to the Wingmoore Institute yesterday afternoon for another pow-wow with the Master, she says,” Lovatt explained. “She also said that he asked her to drop him off in the vicinity of sector one-zero-seven. He seemed to cross over the parklands until she lost sight of him.”
“Sector one-oh-seven?” Morris asked. “What’s out there?”
“Not much, sir,” Lovatt replied. “It’s mostly residential. Posh, but residential.”
“One-oh-seven,” Morris mused turning to look at the map pinned to the wall behind his desk. “Why would he go there? What’s there for him? I doubt he’d fit in the with locals in the pubs of that area, full of old Empire types isn’t it? All plus fours and mutton chops.”
“Probably a bit of a stereotype, sir,” Lovatt said, immediately wishing she hadn’t.
“Even so, Sergeant,” Morris replied, folding his hands behind his back and turning to face her, “they’re mostly doctors, lawyers and that lot over that way. Does he know of anyone like that he would be visiting?”
“Not off the top of my head, sir.”
“There must be a reason for it, Sergeant,” Morris said, staring off into the distance. “Unless that girl friend of his lives over that way.” Morris paused and leant on his desk, looking intently at Lovatt. “Sergeant, this may go against all regs, but there’s no hurry in reporting any of Tom’s activities to me, do you understand? The same goes for Corporal Loding.”
“Yes, sir,” Lovatt replied. “Although I thought you said the other day that you’d had orders,”
“I don’t give a damn about that,” Morris cut in, straightening up. “We’re being asked to investigate one of our own, Sergeant, and that makes me uneasy. Whoever he may be, he’s a friend of the Doctor, and that means we look out for him as much as we would one of our own.”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Lovatt asked straightening to attention.
“Of course, Sergeant.” Morris said, gesturing with his hand as he took his seat behind his desk. “You’re my number one, I respect your candour.”
Lovatt shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I met the Doctor, Tom and the girl, Jess, some time before I was transferred to your unit. Now, I don’t mean that that gives me a special insight into them, they seem to know what they’re doing and saying, however off the wall they may be.”
“Get to the point, Sergeant,” Morris said, waving his hand.
“Yes, sir,” Lovatt shifted again. “Well, I’m still not one hundred percent comfortable in reporting on one of our own, but still, we’ve been ordered to. Not only that, but you said this order came from the top. Well, with that in consideration, sir, if we disobey these orders and are found out, well, that’s all our careers down the khazi, not only that, but we could end up in prison for the rest of our lives for treason or something.”
“Yes, thank you, Sergeant,” Morris said with a sigh. “I’m not saying we disobey our orders, merely that these are not a high priority.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Corporal Loding called from the door with a brief salute.
“Yes Corporal, what can I do for you?” Morris asked with a smile.
“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” Loding said with a brief glance over to Lovatt. “General Bailey and Sir Daniel Ashfield are downstairs. Sir Daniel says he wants to speak to you on a matter of national security.”
“One thing after another,” Morris muttered as he grabbed his cap from his desk. “Did they happen to say what matter of national security?”
“Sorry, sir,” Loding replied. “I think Sir Daniel only wants to talk to you. He’s got two Red-caps with him.”
“Oh, nuts,” Morris sighed, “just what we need; the officials sticking their noses in. Alright then, you two are with me.”
“Sir,” Lovatt and Loding chorused, both snapping to attention before following Morris from his office.
*
Hands in his pockets, Tom strolled through the busy streets of Camden Town. The Brigadier hadn’t been able to drop him off in Camden, but had been able to drop him near to a tube station so that he could get a train to UNIT HQ.
Arriving in Camden, Tom had felt at a bit of a loose end. He didn’t want to go straight back to HQ, he was still running the events of the past twenty four hours in his head. A lot of what the Master had to say was still dashing across his mind. What he really needed was someone to talk things through with. Usually he would sit down with Jess and they’d talk through things. He missed it. The thought that he may never see either Jess or the Doctor again flashed through his head. His hearts almost missed a beat and his blood chilled at the thought.
Tom stopped, his head snapping up as a thought came to him, causing several of the Camden shoppers to bump into him, swearing at him. Ignoring them, he turned on his heel. There was someone, if only he could find them. Still, he had an idea; the Devonshire Arms, he’d met her there before, Jess’s friend. Walking back the way he had come, Tom threaded his ways through the throngs of shoppers.
*
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Captain Morris said as he stood inside the operations room.
Sir Daniel Ashfield was sat at his desk, flicking through his files, General Bailey stood by the side of the desk, cap under his arm, his hands folded before him. The two military police were flanking the door.
“Ah, Captain Morris,” Ashfield said, looking up, “nice to see you again.”
“Sir Daniel,” Morris said, giving a quick salute.
“Please, please,” Ashfield said, gesturing for Morris to end the salute. “What I’ve come to talk to you about is a matter of extreme national security. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“We’re quite able to talk here, sir,” Morris replied, giving a quick look around the room. The two MP’s by the door were stood at ease but stony faced.
“I’d rather we didn’t talk here, if it’s all the same to you, Captain,” Ashfield said, shooting a glance to Loding and Lovatt.
“I’d like to have my senior staff present, if it’s all the same, sir,” Morris replied.
“No, I’m afraid it isn’t ‘all the same’, Captain Morris,” Ashfield said standing up. “As I told your Corporal, and you yourself, this is a matter of top national security. Now, I’ll ask again; is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Erm, yes, sir, my office,” Morris said, shifting on his feet.
“Excellent,” Ashfield said, turning to Bailey. “General, you’ll accompany us.”
“Sir,” Bailey said with a small nod of his head.
“And you two,” Ashfield said looking over to the two MP’s, “you will follow us but stay on guard outside.” The two Military Police snapped to attention without a word and saluted. “Lead the way, Captain,” Ashfield said, gesturing to the door.
With a salute, Morris turned and headed from the door, with Ashfield and Bailey following him. After the trio had left, the two MP’s shouldered their weapons and followed. For several seconds after the group had left the room, Lovatt and Loding just stared at each other.
“What do you suppose all that was about?” Lovatt asked, breaking the silence.
“Matter of national security? Military Police? Can’t talk in front of us?” Loding summarised. “My guess is, someone is in trouble.”
“Well, that’s obvious,” Lovatt replied. “Military police usually mean court martial or worse.”
“Yeah, but who?” Loding asked. “Ashfield didn’t want to talk in front of us and the General looked as though he’d had some bad news. You don’t think they’re arresting Captain Morris, do you?”
“Dunno,” Lovatt shrugged, perching on the edge of the desk she was stood by. “But then, we have been writing reports about the past couple of days?”
“Tom?” Loding asked.
“Yeah,” Lovatt replied. “I was actually talking to the Captain about him before you arrived. He still not back yet?”
“No idea,” Loding shrugged. “I took him to Wingmoore as usual, but he seemed odd and distant when he came out. Just asked to be dropped off to go for a walk; that was the last I saw of him.”
“Well, I recon that’s what it is,” Lovatt said with a nod. “They want him in for something.”
“So what do we do about it?” Loding asked.
“Nothing much we can do, but obey orders,” Lovatt replied with a shrug, “no matter how not right they may seem, otherwise we could find ourselves in the nuts as well.”
*
Tom downed the remains of his beer and slammed the glass down on the small table with a clunk. He’d been sat in the pub for three hours and got through a total of six pints alone and so far no one he recognised had come through the doors, least of all Kelly. Glancing down at his watch, he was grateful for his ability to metabolise alcohol fast, it was starting to get late in the day.
Getting to his feet, he pulled on his leather overcoat. As much as he didn’t want to, he decided he’d better go back to UNIT HQ. Taking another glance around the pub, Tom plonked his hat on his head and left. He mentally chastised himself for not getting contact details from Kelly. She could have been invaluable to him as a sounding board. She’d been good during the brief time they’d spent together the other day, listening to his rambling and offering some advice. Granted, she didn’t have the experience of Jess, but she certainly gave a good attempt.
There was more of a chill to the air as he left the pub. The day had brightened; the grey clouds had once again given way to a bright winter’s afternoon. His breath misted as he walked down the street. The crowds of shoppers were starting to thin out a little.
Pausing as he reached the doors to the HQ, he glanced up and down the street, peering through the crowds. There was no sight of electric blue hair anywhere; several different colours, but none that looked familiar.
Resigning himself to the fact that he’d probably not see her again, Tom shrugged to himself and turned and entered the reception foyer. With a smile, he nodded to the receptionist, who didn’t return his smile, merely watched him as he walked through towards the stairs. With another shrug, Tom pushed open the door and headed back up to the lab.
As soon as Tom was through the door, the receptionist reached across to a telephone and picked up the receiver. After several seconds, it was answered at the other end.
“Captain Morris?” she asked. “Sorry sir, is Captain Morris there? I’ve something to report to him.” Several more seconds passed before Morris’s tinny voice came through the receiver. “Reception here, sir,” the receptionist said. “You told me to report to you whenever Mr. Rowan came or went. Yes, sir, he’s just returned.”
*
Captain Morris pursed his lips briefly. “Thank you,” he said as he listened to the receptionist’s report. Reaching across to the desk, he put the receiver back in its cradle and looked at Sir Daniel, who was sat in his chair behind the desk. “It seems that Tom has just returned,” he reported.
“So I gather,” Ashfield replied. “You remember what I said; these are orders from Mr. Duncan himself.”
Morris shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure about this sir,” he said, addressing Bailey.
“Are you refusing to obey a direct order, Captain?” Ashfield said, getting to his feet.
“It’s not that, sir,” Morris began, “it’s just, Tom, he’s on our side, helped us.”
“He’s not one of us, man,” Sir Daniel said. “He’s an alien, one of the same lot as the Master, and he’s been spending an inordinate amount of time with that thing of late.”
“They’re the same race, yes,” Morris said, “but so is the Doctor, and he’s helped this planet so much in the past. And Tom is a friend of his.”
“But he’s not the Doctor, that’s the point,” Sir Daniel pressed, walking round Bailey. “He’s an illegal alien, in every sense of the word. We don’t know what he’s been plotting with the Master. These lights could be something to do with them. And where is the Doctor now? Both he and the Master have been coming to this planet for years, gathering information for an invasion?”
“That’s nonsense, sorry sir, but it is,” Morris protested.
“And how do we know?”
“With respect, sir,” Bailey began, causing Sir Daniel to round on him.
“General,” he warned, raising an eyebrow. “This is a command direct from the top; do I have to insight the pair of you for mutiny?”
“Tom’s helped us, sir,” Morris repeated. “So has the Doctor; they’ve fended off invasions, not aided and abetted them.”
“To save this world for themselves,” Ashfield said. “What better way to throw someone off the scent, they now know the intricacies of our planetary defences.”
“I’m sorry, but this is all bollocks,” Morris said, turning away.
“Captain, this Tom Rowan is an alien interloper,” Ashfield sat back down at the desk and placed his hand on the telephone. “He is not invited here, and he is showing no sign of a peaceful first contact. The new initiative that I instigated means that his arrest is high priority; he is a threat to the defence and security of the realm. Or do I have to pick up this telephone and have you and your staff arrested as well?”
“Very well, sir,” Morris said. He was beat and he knew it. He may not agree with Ashfield, but he had no choice.
Ashfield withdrew his hand from the telephone receiver and folded his hands on the desk. It appeared that he was making this office his own for the duration. Reaching down, he picked up his briefcase and placed it on the desk before looking back up at the two soldiers.
“Is there anything else, gentlemen?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Bailey replied.
“Very good,” Ashfield said, smiling. “Mr. Rowan is to be arrested immediately. That is why I brought the two MP’s outside, they’ll escort you.”
“Yes, sir,” Morris replied with a salute.
“That’ll be all, gentlemen,” Ashfield said, dismissing the two soldiers with a wave of his hand.
Turning, Morris and Bailey left the office, leaving Ashfield sat, smiling to himself.
“Well?” Bailey asked, a glimmer of sadness in his eye.
“I still don’t like this, sir,” Morris said.
“I know, Will,” Bailey replied. “I don’t like it either. I agree with you but orders are orders, even I’m bound by them. I’d like to help you, Will, really I would.”
“I know, sir,” Morris sighed. “I suppose I’d better make that telephone call.”
*
Tom rounded the corner of the corridor and walked into the front reception of UNIT HQ. The large glass windows that dominated one wall showed the dying light of the December evening, as such, it was getting rather dark in the reception area. There was now no one sat behind the desk and so there weren’t many lights on.
He hadn’t seen Morris. Something had rung an alarm bell in his mind when the Captain had called him in the lab and said that he needed to discuss something importantly. There was something in the tone of his voice. Tom checked his watch; he had received the phone call two minutes ago.
Tom tapped his fingers against the marble top of the reception desk for a few moments as he tried to make up his mind what to do. There was a part of him telling him to leave the HQ immediately, however, what if he were wrong? What if Morris had uncovered something about Duncan or the Master?
Tom turned at the sound of a door opening. He would soon get his answer, as Morris entered, with General Bailey directly behind him, two privates bringing up the rear. Something struck him about the two privates. They weren’t wearing a UNIT uniform, it was regular army. And they were wearing red caps as opposed to the usual UNIT beret. That meant one thing; military police.
“Ah, Captain,” Tom started, making his way towards the four men.
“I’m sorry about this, Tom,” Morris said.
Tom paused as he noticed the pistol held in Morris’s hand. It was pointed directly at him. Sighing, Tom nodded, his shoulders slumping in resignation. “So am I,” he said.
With a quick movement, Tom grabbed the barrel of Morris’s pistol and tugged sharply as his fist connected with the Captain’s face. Morris staggered back into Bailey, unbalancing the General. Tom stepped back, covering the four soldiers with the pistol, the two privates levelling their rifles at him.
“No,” Morris said, holding his hand up to stop the two troops.
Tom backed to the doors and reaching behind him, pulled one open before stepping through. Pulling the door closed, Tom ran, the last thing he saw, the two privates starting to make for the door. He’d got only a few yards down the road when he ran slap bang into someone. He was halfway through mumbling an apology to step round and run when he spotted the electric blue hair.
“Oh boy, glad I ran into you,” Kelly said, “I’ve something to...” she trailed off as she saw the pistol in his hand. Looking over his shoulder, Kelly saw the two soldiers emerge from the non-descript office style front of UNIT HQ, rifles in their hands.
“Later,” Tom replied grabbing her hand with his free hand. “Run,” he said setting off again, dragging the bewildered girl behind him.
