Post by Fitz Kreiner on May 17, 2011 11:19:40 GMT
“How the hell did he manage it?” Ashfield exploded, sat behind Morris’s desk.
General Bailey and Captain Morris were stood on the other side, looks of concern on their faces.
“We don’t know, sir,” Bailey replied.
“We found the jeep abandoned about a mile from its last reported location and the bodies of his guards and the driver,” Morris replied. “They’d been shrunk down and hung from the rear view mirror. Apparently, it’s a trade mark of the Master to shrink the bodies of his victims, some super advanced ray gun thing.”
“I’m not interested in that,” Ashfield said. “Why wasn’t he searched? How could he smuggle a ray gun into the escort vehicle, and why didn’t you have more armed escorts?”
“Sorry, sir,” Bailey said, “But you said implicitly that it was to be a small team so as not to attract attention.”
“And the Master was searched,” Morris protested, “twice, once by myself.”
“Well, then you’re incompetent, Captain,” Ashfield shouted. “You missed this gun.”
“With respect, sir,” Morris continued. “If it’s a gun which can do what it did to a six foot man, then who knows what shape or size it is. I certainly wouldn’t know what to look out for. We need the Doctor for that.”
“That man is out of the equation,” Ashfield snapped. “Not only have you allowed Rowan to escape, but also the Master. These two men may now be returning to goodness knows where with whatever information they’ve gathered.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Bailey said, “We don’t know that.”
“I gather that the Master was able to remove his travel machine from under your noses when you last dealt with him and you’ve been unable to locate it.”
“That’s true sir,” Morris replied, “But if he sticks to his old MO then he’s probably gone back there and left Earth by now.”
“And what do you know of his old MO?” Ashfield asked.
“Only what I’ve read from the reports, sir,” Morris replied.
“Then you’re by no means an expert, are you Captain?” Ashfield said. “And if you don’t find him, then you could find yourself losing one or more of those pips on your shoulder.”
“Again, with all due respect, sir,” Bailey cut it, “You don’t have the authority for that.”
“I may not, but Mr. Duncan does, and I answer directly to him,” Ashfield retorted. “And don’t you forget that.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Morris said.
“What is it?”
“Well, you say that I’m not an expert on the Master,”
“I’d say that’s obvious,” Ashfield sighed.
“Then, would it not make sense to get one?” Morris ventured.
“And who would you suggest, Captain?” Ashfield asked.
“Well, sir,” Morris said, “there is one man, and if it’s alright with you, I can call on him in the morning.”
“Well, this is it,” Kelly said, opening the door so that Tom could pass. “My sisters’ flat, although her and her husband are away for the weekend. Lounge, kitchen, their room, mine,” Kelly said, pointing around before turning to look at Tom. “Are you alright? You’ve not said much since we left the military place? I know it was only about five minutes ago, but still.”
“Just thinking,” Tom said.
“What about?” Kelly asked, walking past Tom and opening the door to her room. “Come in and sit down,” she said, kicking her shoes off.
“So, it’s not Allison,” Tom said, flopping down heavily onto the bed. “I’m trying to think who’s been leaving me these little messages.”
“Are you still on that?” Kelly asked. “Surely we’ll find out tomorrow who it is?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Tom said sitting up. “I would just like to have known a little before going there.”
“Forewarned is forearmed?”
“Exactly,” Tom said. “As it is, I know less than ever. All the electronic data I had I’ve emailed to the last person I think may be able to help, but that’s a long shot.”
“Who’s that then?” Kelly asked, folding her legs up under her so she was sitting crossed legged.
“The Brigadier,” Tom said. “He told me he’s got a couple of sources; someone I’ve met before who now works for MI5 and an some journalist woman, although I don’t know much about her. He used to and apparently she used to as well, travel with the Doctor.”
“Who, the Brigadier?”
“No, the MI5 chap,” Tom replied. “This woman too, for quite a while apparently. The Doctor’s mentioned her before; Sarah Jane. Unfortunately I can’t remember for the lives of me her surname, otherwise I’d try looking her up. Hopefully the Brig will be able to pass the info on to her.”
“You don’t sound very confident,” Kelly said, gently placing a hand on Tom’s knee.
“I’m not,” Tom said with a sigh. “I really wish I knew what to do here. I really could do with the Doctor, but he’s goodness knows where, or when. The Master is the closest person to him left on the planet, and he’s just been taken out of the picture. I guess I’m just holding out a thin ray of hope that the Doc’ll turn up again, in the nick of time.”
“You sound pretty stressed out about it,” Kelly said, scrambling to her knees and crawling round behind Tom. “Let me give you a hand,” reaching out she started to knead his shoulders. “Bloody hell, talk about knots,” she said after a few seconds.
“I guess I don’t get many moments to take it easy,” Tom said. “We kinda rattle around the universe, going from one thing to another.”
“Alright, you’re gonna get relaxed,” Kelly said, sitting back. “Take your shirt off and lie on your front.”
“Excuse me?” Tom asked.
“Your back is full of knots, I’m gonna get rid of them for you,” Kelly explained, reaching across to a drawer beside the bed. “You’re not allergic to anything like lavender are you?” she asked, retrieving a small bottle of oil.
“Not that I know of,” Tom said, unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you planning?”
“It’s just a massage,” Kelly said softly. “You don’t have them in space?”
“Don’t have time,” Tom said before chuckling. The chuckles became giggles which soon became a fit of laughter.
“What is it?” Kelly asked, smiling, a small laugh escaping her lips.
“I’m a Time Lord, and I can’t find any time,” Tom managed, a tear rolling down his face as he continued to laugh.
“I have no idea what one of them is,” Kelly laughed.
“I wish I knew more,” Tom said, finally overcoming his laughing fit. “I only really know what’s in my head and what I’ve seen.”
“What do you mean?” Kelly asked, cocking her head to one side.
“I’m a Time Lord, but I don’t know much more than that,” Tom explained. “The Time Lords put a block on my mind; large bits I don’t know. All I know is I’m a Time Lord and apparently my real name is Toraan. But for some reason they put this block on my mind and put me in Earth’s time stream in the forty first century. They’ve been pretty much callous towards me when I met the Doctor and found out what I was, which is why I’m with him and why I use the name that I was given for my human cover, to pardon the use of word.”
“So you were like a secret agent sort of thing for these Time Lords?”
“I wish I knew,” Tom replied a sadness faintly misting over his eyes. “I don’t even know what my home world looks like, I just know a name; Gallifrey. Most of what I know, I got from the Doctor. I guess we’re kinda like kindred spirits in a way, deplore how the Time Lords do things from time to time and renegades from them for pretty much the same reasons. Although granted he’s got a somewhat different relationship with them. Been their president twice he tells me.”
“I may have to meet him,” Kelly said, “You hardly stop talking about him, must be quite a guy.”
“He is,” Tom said.
Kelly narrowed her eyes, “Are you, y’know, holding a torch for him?” she asked.
“Eh?” Tom asked as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and laid it on the bedside table.
“Do you fancy him?” Kelly asked.
“I respect him, a hell of a lot,” Tom replied. “He’s like a real life hero. He leaves a lot to live up to and he’s someone I can never replace. He’s an inspiration.”
“Whoa, deep,” Kelly said.
“He’s saved this planet, and many others, more times than I can count,” Tom said.
“Might be worth meeting, if only to say thanks to,” Kelly said softly. “But enough of the deepness, I was gonna help you relax,” she added with a smile.
“Ok,” Tom said, “What do I do?”
“Just lie on your front and relax,” Kelly said carefully unbuttoning her shirt, “I’ll try and get these knots out.”
“And you’re taking your shirt off, becuase?” Tom asked.
“This is an good shirt, I don’t wanna get oil on it,” Kelly said, thinking quickly. “Now relax, let me work my magic,” she added with another smile.
Tipping a little of the oil into her hands, Kelly began the massage on Toms back and shoulders. She was surprised at just how knotted the muscles in his back were. Several quiet minutes passed, in a comfortable silence, she was just happy to have him there. About to ask Tom another question, Kelly’s train of thought was interrupted by a soft snore.
“Tom?” she asked, only to be responded with another snore. “Oh, typical,” she said softly to herself.
The Brigadier closed the door behind him quietly; something was wrong. Doris was at her bridge club, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the house, yet there was the glow of a lamp coming from his study. He was sure that he’d turned that off before he left. And he’d closed the door, he always closed his study door, yet here it was sitting ajar. And then there was the smell, the bitter sweet smell of cigar smoke.
Cautiously he pushed it open. Someone was sitting in his chair. He couldn’t see who it was; just an arm on the edge of the chair and on his table beside the chair sat a cigar in a small dish, smoking gently and two of his finest crystal glasses, both with a sizeable slug of scotch in them.
“Ah, Brigadier, my dear fellow,” the voice purred. “Do come in.”
A chill passed through Lethbridge-Stewart. He recognised that voice, a voice he hadn’t heard in some years. He cautiously walked round his study so he could see the figure in his chair; it was him, definitely. He was looking no different from the last time he saw him, all those years ago, maybe just a little greyer in the beard. He was wearing what looked to be a very expensive black suit with dark blue shirt and tie, with the a handkerchief sticking out of the top pocket, in the same silk as the tie.
“Won’t you join me?” the Master asked, picking up one of the glasses of whisky and indicating the other.
“How did you get in here?” the Brigadier asked.
“Oh please,” the Master said, setting his glass back down.
The Brigadier was now stood behind his desk. Keeping his eyes on the Master he carefully opened a drawer and glanced down; it was still there.
“What do you want?” the Brigadier asked, changing track.
The Master sighed and picked up his cigar. “As loathed as I am to say this, Brigadier, I need your help.”
The Brigadier considered this; there was something not right about this. It seemed incredulous. “My help?” he asked.
The Master nodded gently. “It seems your government and former employers are after me, I’m on the run you might say.”
“You surprise me,” the Brigadier replied sardonically getting an eyebrow raised in reply by the Master. “After the numerous attempts you’ve made to conquer or destroy this planet, this doesn’t surprise me.”
“It’s different this time,” the Master replied. “I am one of two people who can stop what’s going on here, and that is why the government want me out of the way. And I very strongly believe that this order came down from the highest authority; a certain Mr James Duncan.”
“You still don’t surprise me,” the Brigadier replied. His hand was now enclosed around the service revolver in his drawer. “But you’re going straight back to where you came from,” he said, lifting the revolver and pointing it at the Time Lord.
“Oh really, Brigadier,” the Master said in a disappointed tone of voice. He reached out with his left hand and revealed the six bullets from the gun. “I trust you’ve been receiving some information from a certain source in UNIT?” the Master didn’t stop, merely acknowledged the slight change in the Brigadier’s eye contact. “Yes, I see you have. Well, I feel that your contact will be in a similar situation to myself.”
“What do you mean?” the Brigadier asked. He placed the now useless revolver back in his drawer and walked back round the desk. He reached out and picked up the glass and took a sniff.
“Oh don’t be so cautious my dear chap,” the Master said. “I’d hardly poison a good scotch, and besides, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now.”
The Brigadier thought for a second; the Master was right there. He could have set any number of booby traps or shot him the moment he entered his home. He cautiously took a sip of the whisky; it was his finest, an 21 year old single malt.
“You had Crompton in your pocket then?” the Brigadier asked, remembering the Doctor’s report of Trenchard from the Master’s first stint in prison on Earth back in the seventies.
“Far from it,” the Master said. “As I said, your government wanted me out of the way. I was collected by a Sir Daniel Ashfield, General Bailey and Captain Morris from UNIT. It seemed they wanted to take me to the Tower, to meet your upcoming monarch.”
“Why does this mean you need my help?” the Brigadier asked, sitting in a chair opposite the Master.
“Because from who was present at extraditing me from the prison, makes me believe that your contact, Mr. Rowan, is also on the run from his erstwhile employers.”
“And what makes you say that?” the Brigadier asked.
“It’s Mr. Rowan who has been coming to see me also, I believe you are the one who allowed him entrance again the institute after that rather amusing incident in my cell,” the Master smiled. “Had he still been at liberty, or rather, not under threat from Ashfield, then I believe he would have been back. I say that because I feel he is a resourceful young man, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to contact you again.”
“That’s possible,” the Brigadier mused. “And you are right after all, he told me about the incident in your cell.”
“Yes, I thought he might,” the Master chuckled. “He’s got a great amount to learn, wouldn’t you agree? He almost bumbles his way through things.”
“He caught you after your last plot,” the Brigadier countered.
“Ah yes,” I will give him that,” the Master replied. “Although he did have the help of the dear Doctor there, this time, he’s acting completely alone. I almost feel for him.”
“You’re almost sounding concerned,” the Brigadier replied. “I don’t like it.”
“Would you rather I be callous about it?” the Master asked, arching an eyebrow. “He’s been pleasant enough with me, and I think he suitably passed the test.”
“What are you talking about?” the Brigadier asked.
“The incident in my cell,” the Master replied. “I got a good sense of who he is there; he’s a strong willed and idealistic young man, someone who will fight for his cause, someone like the Doctor or myself.”
“You’re really classing yourself as the same league as the Doctor, or young Rowan?” the Brigadier scoffed. “I’ve only met him the twice but he’s still infinitely more trustworthy than you.”
“Oh my dear fellow,” the Master replied almost hurt, “you wound me. Have I ever been anything but dishonest with you? I’m the first to admit that I’ve been out to either destroy or control this world, and I told as much to Mr. Rowan as well. I am honest in my intent.”
“Then why are you still here?” the Brigadier asked. “You could have left us to whatever fate we’ve got lined up in the coming days.”
“The game, my dear fellow, the game,” the Master said with a sly smile. “The best player I’ve faced is the good Doctor and he’s not here. I don’t believe our Mr. Duncan to be a player at all.”
“You’ve lost me,” the Brigadier said.
The Master smiled. “I expected as much,” he said softly after several seconds. “You and the Doctor are worthy adversaries, I imagine that given time, Mr. Rowan will be as well. The Doctor always picks them well. Mr. Duncan is no more a master strategist or worthy adversary as an ant beneath my foot, yet he has managed to do what so far I have not.”
“He’s been there to clear up your mess,” the Brigadier said. “People like him for that, even if he is slimy. I’m glad I’m retired, I’d never want to be in service for him.”
“That’s nice to hear,” the Master said taking a large puff of his cigar. “Shall we just say that my curiosity is peaked? I’ve had my own sources that have been able to supply me with some information regarding what has been going on in this country and believe it or not, I also want to stop Mr. Duncan.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t,” the Brigadier said, taking a sip of whisky.
“Again, I’m telling the truth, yet people don’t believe me,” the Master said. “Mr. Duncan is no more the heir to the throne than I am. He’s managed to get here with opportunist means and alien intervention, and I think I know who has helped him.”
“Would you care to tell me?” the Brigadier asked.
“All in good time, my dear fellow,” the Master smiled. “I can’t reveal my hand too early otherwise it might spoil the game. In the mean time, why don’t we compare notes? A man of your position, I sincerely doubt that you’ve been idle. And besides, this is a good scotch; I’d hate to have to leave without finishing it.”
“So you will be leaving?” the Brigadier asked, feeling a weight lift from his heart at the news.
“Again, in good time,” the Master purred. “I might have to stay with you tonight before I begin, I would imagine that people are on the lookout for me.”
“I don’t like this,” the Brigadier said. “We were enemies twenty years ago, in fact, we were enemies twenty minutes ago.”
“You wound me again,” the Master replied. “I’ve been polite and courteous to you; in fact, I’ve been more than pleasant. Surely you can’t deny me just one night, and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”
“I will not help you take control of this country,” the Brigadier said firmly.
“Oh my dear fellow, of course not,” the Master replied, holding his hands up. “I merely want your assistance in helping me bring down Duncan. Then I shall leave this planet.”
The Brigadier thought for a few seconds. “I’ll agree to help you with one condition,” he said finally.
“Name it,” the Master said.
“Once we’ve got the evidence to reveal Duncan to be a fraud and he’s removed from his position, you will return to prison.” The Master briefly looked thoughtful and was about to respond when the Brigadier continued. “It’s that, or I contact UNIT immediately and let them know you’re here and you go to the Tower as had been planned.”
“Can I sleep on it?” the Master asked.
“Yes or no, now,” the Brigadier replied.
“Oh, very well,” the Master agreed. “After we’ve brought down Duncan, I shall surrender myself to the authorities.”
Sergeant Lovatt sat at her desk in the operations room. The HQ was quieter than usual. She was now the most senior member of the UNIT team in the building, Captain Morris having gone off duty about three hours before. General Bailey had recently left to return to his own HQ.
Drumming her fingers on her desk, Lovatt looked again at the folded piece of paper on her desk. She’d been tossing the thought over and over in her head for some time. She didn’t want to have to take it to anyone, yet it was her duty and orders. Swallowing hard, she got to her feet; it was now or never.
Almost in a daze, she walked through the corridors of HQ towards Captain Morris’s office. She wondered whether he’d still be there as she walked, aware that she was bound to be betraying one, if not two, friends.
Quicker than she’d anticipated, Lovatt reached the door and knocked.
“Come,” Sir Daniel’s voice barked from inside.
Swallowing hard again, Lovatt reached out and turned the door handle.
“Ah, Sergeant, what can I do you for?” Ashfield said with a smile.
“Sir,” Lovatt said feeling her palms get sweaty. “As per your orders, I thought I should bring you this,” she said holding out the piece of paper.
“And what might this be?” Ashfield asked.
“I found it in the lab, sir,” Lovatt explained. “I think Tom was here at some point.”
“What?!” Ashfield shouted.
“He must have snuck in sometime,” Lovatt said, thinking fast. “He knows the security measures here, so I guess he knows how to get round them. And besides, there’s not many people in the HQ these days and earlier a few were out with you and Captain Morris to collect the Master.”
“Hmm,” Ashfield mused as he unfolded the paper. He scanned it quickly, his look of anger fading into one of pleasure. “So, we’ve got a leak have we?” he asked.
“So it would appear sir,” Lovatt said.
“Well, you’ve done well, Sergeant,” Ashfield said. “Do you know who this traitor is?”
“No, sir,” Lovatt admitted.
“What about this holding warehouse?”
“Well, yes sir,” Lovatt replied. “It’s used to store a lot of our equipment and artefacts and evidence from the cases we investigate. We have to clear up a lot of stuff and we have to store it somewhere.”
“Quite a dangerous place for someone like Rowan to be,” Ashfield mused. “I think we should allow whoever this traitor is to keep their appointment, although I think it will be cut short.”
“Sir?” Lovatt asked.
“We’ll be in attendance, Sergeant,” Ashfield said. “Two birds with one stone, so to speak. We can arrest both Rowan and this traitor at the same time.”
Lovatt nodded, feeling her heart beat heavy in her chest and a knot of guilt in her stomach.
“Who’s on duty tomorrow?” Ashfield asked.
“Without looking at the roster, I couldn’t tell you,” Lovatt replied. “I think I’m the only officer on duty though, it’s Captain Morris’s day off.”
“Interesting,” Ashfield mused again. “He’s on a mission for me in the morning.”
“You don’t think that the Captain,” Lovatt began.
“I can’t comment on what I think, Sergeant,” Ashfield said. “Whoever turns up tomorrow will prove who this traitor is.”
“Sir,” Lovatt said, her shoulders slumping slightly.
“Well done Sergeant,” Ashfield said, getting to his feet. “If you can organise an operation to capture these two criminals and arrest them you may find yourself with a promotion.”
“Sir,” Lovatt said, standing to attention.
“See to it then, Sergeant,” Ashfield said. “And well done.”
“Sir,” Lovatt repeated, before saluting and turning to leave. Closing the door behind her she took a few steps down the corridor before pausing and leaning against the wall with a heavy sigh. “Well done, Allison,” she said to herself, “you’re gaining a promotion and losing your self-respect.”
General Bailey and Captain Morris were stood on the other side, looks of concern on their faces.
“We don’t know, sir,” Bailey replied.
“We found the jeep abandoned about a mile from its last reported location and the bodies of his guards and the driver,” Morris replied. “They’d been shrunk down and hung from the rear view mirror. Apparently, it’s a trade mark of the Master to shrink the bodies of his victims, some super advanced ray gun thing.”
“I’m not interested in that,” Ashfield said. “Why wasn’t he searched? How could he smuggle a ray gun into the escort vehicle, and why didn’t you have more armed escorts?”
“Sorry, sir,” Bailey said, “But you said implicitly that it was to be a small team so as not to attract attention.”
“And the Master was searched,” Morris protested, “twice, once by myself.”
“Well, then you’re incompetent, Captain,” Ashfield shouted. “You missed this gun.”
“With respect, sir,” Morris continued. “If it’s a gun which can do what it did to a six foot man, then who knows what shape or size it is. I certainly wouldn’t know what to look out for. We need the Doctor for that.”
“That man is out of the equation,” Ashfield snapped. “Not only have you allowed Rowan to escape, but also the Master. These two men may now be returning to goodness knows where with whatever information they’ve gathered.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Bailey said, “We don’t know that.”
“I gather that the Master was able to remove his travel machine from under your noses when you last dealt with him and you’ve been unable to locate it.”
“That’s true sir,” Morris replied, “But if he sticks to his old MO then he’s probably gone back there and left Earth by now.”
“And what do you know of his old MO?” Ashfield asked.
“Only what I’ve read from the reports, sir,” Morris replied.
“Then you’re by no means an expert, are you Captain?” Ashfield said. “And if you don’t find him, then you could find yourself losing one or more of those pips on your shoulder.”
“Again, with all due respect, sir,” Bailey cut it, “You don’t have the authority for that.”
“I may not, but Mr. Duncan does, and I answer directly to him,” Ashfield retorted. “And don’t you forget that.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Morris said.
“What is it?”
“Well, you say that I’m not an expert on the Master,”
“I’d say that’s obvious,” Ashfield sighed.
“Then, would it not make sense to get one?” Morris ventured.
“And who would you suggest, Captain?” Ashfield asked.
“Well, sir,” Morris said, “there is one man, and if it’s alright with you, I can call on him in the morning.”
*
“Well, this is it,” Kelly said, opening the door so that Tom could pass. “My sisters’ flat, although her and her husband are away for the weekend. Lounge, kitchen, their room, mine,” Kelly said, pointing around before turning to look at Tom. “Are you alright? You’ve not said much since we left the military place? I know it was only about five minutes ago, but still.”
“Just thinking,” Tom said.
“What about?” Kelly asked, walking past Tom and opening the door to her room. “Come in and sit down,” she said, kicking her shoes off.
“So, it’s not Allison,” Tom said, flopping down heavily onto the bed. “I’m trying to think who’s been leaving me these little messages.”
“Are you still on that?” Kelly asked. “Surely we’ll find out tomorrow who it is?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Tom said sitting up. “I would just like to have known a little before going there.”
“Forewarned is forearmed?”
“Exactly,” Tom said. “As it is, I know less than ever. All the electronic data I had I’ve emailed to the last person I think may be able to help, but that’s a long shot.”
“Who’s that then?” Kelly asked, folding her legs up under her so she was sitting crossed legged.
“The Brigadier,” Tom said. “He told me he’s got a couple of sources; someone I’ve met before who now works for MI5 and an some journalist woman, although I don’t know much about her. He used to and apparently she used to as well, travel with the Doctor.”
“Who, the Brigadier?”
“No, the MI5 chap,” Tom replied. “This woman too, for quite a while apparently. The Doctor’s mentioned her before; Sarah Jane. Unfortunately I can’t remember for the lives of me her surname, otherwise I’d try looking her up. Hopefully the Brig will be able to pass the info on to her.”
“You don’t sound very confident,” Kelly said, gently placing a hand on Tom’s knee.
“I’m not,” Tom said with a sigh. “I really wish I knew what to do here. I really could do with the Doctor, but he’s goodness knows where, or when. The Master is the closest person to him left on the planet, and he’s just been taken out of the picture. I guess I’m just holding out a thin ray of hope that the Doc’ll turn up again, in the nick of time.”
“You sound pretty stressed out about it,” Kelly said, scrambling to her knees and crawling round behind Tom. “Let me give you a hand,” reaching out she started to knead his shoulders. “Bloody hell, talk about knots,” she said after a few seconds.
“I guess I don’t get many moments to take it easy,” Tom said. “We kinda rattle around the universe, going from one thing to another.”
“Alright, you’re gonna get relaxed,” Kelly said, sitting back. “Take your shirt off and lie on your front.”
“Excuse me?” Tom asked.
“Your back is full of knots, I’m gonna get rid of them for you,” Kelly explained, reaching across to a drawer beside the bed. “You’re not allergic to anything like lavender are you?” she asked, retrieving a small bottle of oil.
“Not that I know of,” Tom said, unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you planning?”
“It’s just a massage,” Kelly said softly. “You don’t have them in space?”
“Don’t have time,” Tom said before chuckling. The chuckles became giggles which soon became a fit of laughter.
“What is it?” Kelly asked, smiling, a small laugh escaping her lips.
“I’m a Time Lord, and I can’t find any time,” Tom managed, a tear rolling down his face as he continued to laugh.
“I have no idea what one of them is,” Kelly laughed.
“I wish I knew more,” Tom said, finally overcoming his laughing fit. “I only really know what’s in my head and what I’ve seen.”
“What do you mean?” Kelly asked, cocking her head to one side.
“I’m a Time Lord, but I don’t know much more than that,” Tom explained. “The Time Lords put a block on my mind; large bits I don’t know. All I know is I’m a Time Lord and apparently my real name is Toraan. But for some reason they put this block on my mind and put me in Earth’s time stream in the forty first century. They’ve been pretty much callous towards me when I met the Doctor and found out what I was, which is why I’m with him and why I use the name that I was given for my human cover, to pardon the use of word.”
“So you were like a secret agent sort of thing for these Time Lords?”
“I wish I knew,” Tom replied a sadness faintly misting over his eyes. “I don’t even know what my home world looks like, I just know a name; Gallifrey. Most of what I know, I got from the Doctor. I guess we’re kinda like kindred spirits in a way, deplore how the Time Lords do things from time to time and renegades from them for pretty much the same reasons. Although granted he’s got a somewhat different relationship with them. Been their president twice he tells me.”
“I may have to meet him,” Kelly said, “You hardly stop talking about him, must be quite a guy.”
“He is,” Tom said.
Kelly narrowed her eyes, “Are you, y’know, holding a torch for him?” she asked.
“Eh?” Tom asked as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and laid it on the bedside table.
“Do you fancy him?” Kelly asked.
“I respect him, a hell of a lot,” Tom replied. “He’s like a real life hero. He leaves a lot to live up to and he’s someone I can never replace. He’s an inspiration.”
“Whoa, deep,” Kelly said.
“He’s saved this planet, and many others, more times than I can count,” Tom said.
“Might be worth meeting, if only to say thanks to,” Kelly said softly. “But enough of the deepness, I was gonna help you relax,” she added with a smile.
“Ok,” Tom said, “What do I do?”
“Just lie on your front and relax,” Kelly said carefully unbuttoning her shirt, “I’ll try and get these knots out.”
“And you’re taking your shirt off, becuase?” Tom asked.
“This is an good shirt, I don’t wanna get oil on it,” Kelly said, thinking quickly. “Now relax, let me work my magic,” she added with another smile.
Tipping a little of the oil into her hands, Kelly began the massage on Toms back and shoulders. She was surprised at just how knotted the muscles in his back were. Several quiet minutes passed, in a comfortable silence, she was just happy to have him there. About to ask Tom another question, Kelly’s train of thought was interrupted by a soft snore.
“Tom?” she asked, only to be responded with another snore. “Oh, typical,” she said softly to herself.
*
The Brigadier closed the door behind him quietly; something was wrong. Doris was at her bridge club, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the house, yet there was the glow of a lamp coming from his study. He was sure that he’d turned that off before he left. And he’d closed the door, he always closed his study door, yet here it was sitting ajar. And then there was the smell, the bitter sweet smell of cigar smoke.
Cautiously he pushed it open. Someone was sitting in his chair. He couldn’t see who it was; just an arm on the edge of the chair and on his table beside the chair sat a cigar in a small dish, smoking gently and two of his finest crystal glasses, both with a sizeable slug of scotch in them.
“Ah, Brigadier, my dear fellow,” the voice purred. “Do come in.”
A chill passed through Lethbridge-Stewart. He recognised that voice, a voice he hadn’t heard in some years. He cautiously walked round his study so he could see the figure in his chair; it was him, definitely. He was looking no different from the last time he saw him, all those years ago, maybe just a little greyer in the beard. He was wearing what looked to be a very expensive black suit with dark blue shirt and tie, with the a handkerchief sticking out of the top pocket, in the same silk as the tie.
“Won’t you join me?” the Master asked, picking up one of the glasses of whisky and indicating the other.
“How did you get in here?” the Brigadier asked.
“Oh please,” the Master said, setting his glass back down.
The Brigadier was now stood behind his desk. Keeping his eyes on the Master he carefully opened a drawer and glanced down; it was still there.
“What do you want?” the Brigadier asked, changing track.
The Master sighed and picked up his cigar. “As loathed as I am to say this, Brigadier, I need your help.”
The Brigadier considered this; there was something not right about this. It seemed incredulous. “My help?” he asked.
The Master nodded gently. “It seems your government and former employers are after me, I’m on the run you might say.”
“You surprise me,” the Brigadier replied sardonically getting an eyebrow raised in reply by the Master. “After the numerous attempts you’ve made to conquer or destroy this planet, this doesn’t surprise me.”
“It’s different this time,” the Master replied. “I am one of two people who can stop what’s going on here, and that is why the government want me out of the way. And I very strongly believe that this order came down from the highest authority; a certain Mr James Duncan.”
“You still don’t surprise me,” the Brigadier replied. His hand was now enclosed around the service revolver in his drawer. “But you’re going straight back to where you came from,” he said, lifting the revolver and pointing it at the Time Lord.
“Oh really, Brigadier,” the Master said in a disappointed tone of voice. He reached out with his left hand and revealed the six bullets from the gun. “I trust you’ve been receiving some information from a certain source in UNIT?” the Master didn’t stop, merely acknowledged the slight change in the Brigadier’s eye contact. “Yes, I see you have. Well, I feel that your contact will be in a similar situation to myself.”
“What do you mean?” the Brigadier asked. He placed the now useless revolver back in his drawer and walked back round the desk. He reached out and picked up the glass and took a sniff.
“Oh don’t be so cautious my dear chap,” the Master said. “I’d hardly poison a good scotch, and besides, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now.”
The Brigadier thought for a second; the Master was right there. He could have set any number of booby traps or shot him the moment he entered his home. He cautiously took a sip of the whisky; it was his finest, an 21 year old single malt.
“You had Crompton in your pocket then?” the Brigadier asked, remembering the Doctor’s report of Trenchard from the Master’s first stint in prison on Earth back in the seventies.
“Far from it,” the Master said. “As I said, your government wanted me out of the way. I was collected by a Sir Daniel Ashfield, General Bailey and Captain Morris from UNIT. It seemed they wanted to take me to the Tower, to meet your upcoming monarch.”
“Why does this mean you need my help?” the Brigadier asked, sitting in a chair opposite the Master.
“Because from who was present at extraditing me from the prison, makes me believe that your contact, Mr. Rowan, is also on the run from his erstwhile employers.”
“And what makes you say that?” the Brigadier asked.
“It’s Mr. Rowan who has been coming to see me also, I believe you are the one who allowed him entrance again the institute after that rather amusing incident in my cell,” the Master smiled. “Had he still been at liberty, or rather, not under threat from Ashfield, then I believe he would have been back. I say that because I feel he is a resourceful young man, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to contact you again.”
“That’s possible,” the Brigadier mused. “And you are right after all, he told me about the incident in your cell.”
“Yes, I thought he might,” the Master chuckled. “He’s got a great amount to learn, wouldn’t you agree? He almost bumbles his way through things.”
“He caught you after your last plot,” the Brigadier countered.
“Ah yes,” I will give him that,” the Master replied. “Although he did have the help of the dear Doctor there, this time, he’s acting completely alone. I almost feel for him.”
“You’re almost sounding concerned,” the Brigadier replied. “I don’t like it.”
“Would you rather I be callous about it?” the Master asked, arching an eyebrow. “He’s been pleasant enough with me, and I think he suitably passed the test.”
“What are you talking about?” the Brigadier asked.
“The incident in my cell,” the Master replied. “I got a good sense of who he is there; he’s a strong willed and idealistic young man, someone who will fight for his cause, someone like the Doctor or myself.”
“You’re really classing yourself as the same league as the Doctor, or young Rowan?” the Brigadier scoffed. “I’ve only met him the twice but he’s still infinitely more trustworthy than you.”
“Oh my dear fellow,” the Master replied almost hurt, “you wound me. Have I ever been anything but dishonest with you? I’m the first to admit that I’ve been out to either destroy or control this world, and I told as much to Mr. Rowan as well. I am honest in my intent.”
“Then why are you still here?” the Brigadier asked. “You could have left us to whatever fate we’ve got lined up in the coming days.”
“The game, my dear fellow, the game,” the Master said with a sly smile. “The best player I’ve faced is the good Doctor and he’s not here. I don’t believe our Mr. Duncan to be a player at all.”
“You’ve lost me,” the Brigadier said.
The Master smiled. “I expected as much,” he said softly after several seconds. “You and the Doctor are worthy adversaries, I imagine that given time, Mr. Rowan will be as well. The Doctor always picks them well. Mr. Duncan is no more a master strategist or worthy adversary as an ant beneath my foot, yet he has managed to do what so far I have not.”
“He’s been there to clear up your mess,” the Brigadier said. “People like him for that, even if he is slimy. I’m glad I’m retired, I’d never want to be in service for him.”
“That’s nice to hear,” the Master said taking a large puff of his cigar. “Shall we just say that my curiosity is peaked? I’ve had my own sources that have been able to supply me with some information regarding what has been going on in this country and believe it or not, I also want to stop Mr. Duncan.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t,” the Brigadier said, taking a sip of whisky.
“Again, I’m telling the truth, yet people don’t believe me,” the Master said. “Mr. Duncan is no more the heir to the throne than I am. He’s managed to get here with opportunist means and alien intervention, and I think I know who has helped him.”
“Would you care to tell me?” the Brigadier asked.
“All in good time, my dear fellow,” the Master smiled. “I can’t reveal my hand too early otherwise it might spoil the game. In the mean time, why don’t we compare notes? A man of your position, I sincerely doubt that you’ve been idle. And besides, this is a good scotch; I’d hate to have to leave without finishing it.”
“So you will be leaving?” the Brigadier asked, feeling a weight lift from his heart at the news.
“Again, in good time,” the Master purred. “I might have to stay with you tonight before I begin, I would imagine that people are on the lookout for me.”
“I don’t like this,” the Brigadier said. “We were enemies twenty years ago, in fact, we were enemies twenty minutes ago.”
“You wound me again,” the Master replied. “I’ve been polite and courteous to you; in fact, I’ve been more than pleasant. Surely you can’t deny me just one night, and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”
“I will not help you take control of this country,” the Brigadier said firmly.
“Oh my dear fellow, of course not,” the Master replied, holding his hands up. “I merely want your assistance in helping me bring down Duncan. Then I shall leave this planet.”
The Brigadier thought for a few seconds. “I’ll agree to help you with one condition,” he said finally.
“Name it,” the Master said.
“Once we’ve got the evidence to reveal Duncan to be a fraud and he’s removed from his position, you will return to prison.” The Master briefly looked thoughtful and was about to respond when the Brigadier continued. “It’s that, or I contact UNIT immediately and let them know you’re here and you go to the Tower as had been planned.”
“Can I sleep on it?” the Master asked.
“Yes or no, now,” the Brigadier replied.
“Oh, very well,” the Master agreed. “After we’ve brought down Duncan, I shall surrender myself to the authorities.”
*
Sergeant Lovatt sat at her desk in the operations room. The HQ was quieter than usual. She was now the most senior member of the UNIT team in the building, Captain Morris having gone off duty about three hours before. General Bailey had recently left to return to his own HQ.
Drumming her fingers on her desk, Lovatt looked again at the folded piece of paper on her desk. She’d been tossing the thought over and over in her head for some time. She didn’t want to have to take it to anyone, yet it was her duty and orders. Swallowing hard, she got to her feet; it was now or never.
Almost in a daze, she walked through the corridors of HQ towards Captain Morris’s office. She wondered whether he’d still be there as she walked, aware that she was bound to be betraying one, if not two, friends.
Quicker than she’d anticipated, Lovatt reached the door and knocked.
“Come,” Sir Daniel’s voice barked from inside.
Swallowing hard again, Lovatt reached out and turned the door handle.
“Ah, Sergeant, what can I do you for?” Ashfield said with a smile.
“Sir,” Lovatt said feeling her palms get sweaty. “As per your orders, I thought I should bring you this,” she said holding out the piece of paper.
“And what might this be?” Ashfield asked.
“I found it in the lab, sir,” Lovatt explained. “I think Tom was here at some point.”
“What?!” Ashfield shouted.
“He must have snuck in sometime,” Lovatt said, thinking fast. “He knows the security measures here, so I guess he knows how to get round them. And besides, there’s not many people in the HQ these days and earlier a few were out with you and Captain Morris to collect the Master.”
“Hmm,” Ashfield mused as he unfolded the paper. He scanned it quickly, his look of anger fading into one of pleasure. “So, we’ve got a leak have we?” he asked.
“So it would appear sir,” Lovatt said.
“Well, you’ve done well, Sergeant,” Ashfield said. “Do you know who this traitor is?”
“No, sir,” Lovatt admitted.
“What about this holding warehouse?”
“Well, yes sir,” Lovatt replied. “It’s used to store a lot of our equipment and artefacts and evidence from the cases we investigate. We have to clear up a lot of stuff and we have to store it somewhere.”
“Quite a dangerous place for someone like Rowan to be,” Ashfield mused. “I think we should allow whoever this traitor is to keep their appointment, although I think it will be cut short.”
“Sir?” Lovatt asked.
“We’ll be in attendance, Sergeant,” Ashfield said. “Two birds with one stone, so to speak. We can arrest both Rowan and this traitor at the same time.”
Lovatt nodded, feeling her heart beat heavy in her chest and a knot of guilt in her stomach.
“Who’s on duty tomorrow?” Ashfield asked.
“Without looking at the roster, I couldn’t tell you,” Lovatt replied. “I think I’m the only officer on duty though, it’s Captain Morris’s day off.”
“Interesting,” Ashfield mused again. “He’s on a mission for me in the morning.”
“You don’t think that the Captain,” Lovatt began.
“I can’t comment on what I think, Sergeant,” Ashfield said. “Whoever turns up tomorrow will prove who this traitor is.”
“Sir,” Lovatt said, her shoulders slumping slightly.
“Well done Sergeant,” Ashfield said, getting to his feet. “If you can organise an operation to capture these two criminals and arrest them you may find yourself with a promotion.”
“Sir,” Lovatt said, standing to attention.
“See to it then, Sergeant,” Ashfield said. “And well done.”
“Sir,” Lovatt repeated, before saluting and turning to leave. Closing the door behind her she took a few steps down the corridor before pausing and leaning against the wall with a heavy sigh. “Well done, Allison,” she said to herself, “you’re gaining a promotion and losing your self-respect.”
