Doctor Who: The Invasion (6 page)

Smoothing back his sleek silver hair and adjusting the silk handkerchief in his breast pocket, Vaughn strode across to his private elevator and selected Ground Floor - Express. His keen mind considered the problem of the meddlesome Doctor and his mysterious circuits as he glided earthwards.

When the elevator stopped, Vaughn had made his decision.

'This place is like a maze,' Jamie complained as he and the Doctor threaded their way cautiously among the identical stacks, keeping their eyes skinned for any more boiler-suited Hercules.

Suddenly they froze as two piercing screams echoed around the vast warehouse.

'Zoe and Isobel!' Jamie hissed, pointing back towards the loading bay.

Turning, they ran on tip-toe in the direction of the marshalling yard. Crouching in the shadows between the stacks, they watched as Packer supervised two men loading two containers into the last wagon of the train. Jamie gasped as he caught a glimpse of a fluttering string of feathers trapped between the lid and the rim of one of the metal cases.

'Doctor... Zoe's in that crate!' he exclaimed, standing upright with fists clenched and pulse racing madly. 'Jamie, wait!' growled the Doctor, grabbing his arm.

But the impulsive boy shook himself free and sprinted towards the wagons yelling at the top of his voice 'What have ye done with Zoe...!'

The Doctor chewed the frayed edge of his cravat in anguish as he saw Packer whip round and snatch out a pistol as Jamie bore down on him. Springing into view, he scampered in pursuit, shouting to Jamie to stop behaving like an idiot.

Two steel-helmeted guards armed with sten guns suddenly appeared between the wagons and Jamie stumbled to a halt. Turning, he saw two more guards appear behind the Doctor. It was hopeless.

The two friends stood side by side panting for breath as the four guards closed in on them, slipping their safety catches. Packer's weak face lit up in cowardly triumph. 'Rats,' he hissed, strutting malevolently towards them. 'Rats in a trap.'

As the guards forced their captives back towards the warehouse, Packer exulted in his victory. 'Don't you understand - this is private property, a restricted area,' he whined.

'What have you done with Zoe and Isobel?' Jamie demanded savagely. 'We heard them screaming.'

'Silence!' Packer snapped.

'We saw the box with...'

Packer lashed Jamie brutally across the face with his leather glove. 'I told you to be quiet.'

The Doctor gasped with shock as Jamie staggered against him clutching his ear, with blood seeping from his nose.

Before Packer could repeat the vicious blow, Vaughn's measured tones rang out. 'Packer, you really must try to curb this violent streak in your nature, though I admit the situation is a trifle provoking.'

Flanked by two armed guards, the Director of International Electromatix strode towards them, wagging his finger at the Doctor.

'You really are beginning to try our patience,' he chided menacingly.

The Doctor cleared his throat with undisguised distaste. 'We came to look for two young friends of ours, Mr Vaughn.'

Vaughn nodded. 'Two young ladies.'

'You see,' Jamie exploded. 'He admits they're here.'

Vaughn shook his head regretfully. 'Correction. They
were
here. You appear to have been chasing one another's tails. They came here in search of you.'

'And where are they now?' the Doctor inquired calmly.

'They departed.'

'Aye. In one of your tin coffins!' Jamie shouted.

Vaughn glanced scornfully at the Doctor. 'Really...' he protested.

'We did hear someone scream,' the Doctor quietly pointed out.

'And Zoe's boa is sticking out of one of the boxes,' Jamie persisted, wiping the blood from his nose.

Vaughn threw hack his head and roared with laughter. 'What a fertile imagination you have, young man,' he said tartly.

The Doctor placed a restraining hand on Jamie's shoulder. 'Mr Vaughn, it would set our minds at rest if you would permit us to examine the boxes in the last wagon... in case there has been an accident,' he ventured tactfully.

Vaughn spread his arms generously. 'But of course,' he agreed readily. He turned to Packer who was sulking at having the limelight stolen from him. 'No doubt the Doctor is referring to the empty crates in transit back to the factories,' he said, with a significant sideways glance of his hooded eyes.

'Yes, Mr Vaughn. The train's due out any minute.'

'Then we must waste no more time,' Vaughn smiled. 'After you, Doctor.'

As Jamie and the Doctor eagerly set off back towards the marshalling yard, Vaughn signalled secretly to Packer and then caught up with them.

Packer pulled back his left sleeve, exposing a miniaturised two-way radio no bigger than a wristwatch. Pressing a tiny button, he whispered urgently into it. 'Traffic? Top priority. Get the return transit rolling at once. Do you hear me? Right now.'

Just as the Doctor, Jamie and Vaughn reached the loading bay there was a sudden clanking of couplings and the freight wagons slowly began to pull out of the siding. Jamie started running after them but he was far too late. He gave up and stood staring at the rapidly accelerating train with a sinking heart.

'What a pity,' Vaughn said consolingly. 'I am sorry.'

The Doctor's brow was deeply furrowed with mounting anxiety, but he attempted a wry smile.

'However, all is not lost,' Vaughn went on brightly. 'I have to visit the factory complex myself this afternoon. Would you two gentlemen care to accompany me? We can meet the train there.'

Jamie glanced apprehensively at Packer and his security guards hovering at the entrance to the warehouse. The Doctor squeezed his arm reassuringly and turned to Vaughn. 'Most kind.

We'd be delighted to come.'

'Splendid,' Vaughn purred and led the way into the main building.

Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart was sitting at his desk in the Hercules Operations Room, straining to hear Benton's voice on the radiotelephone above the whine of the mighty turboprops as the massive plane came in to land on a disused RAF

station.

'How long ago did they go into the railway yard?' he repeated.

'About an hour ago, sir. Tracey followed them to the... Just a minute, sir...'

The Brigadier pressed the handset firmly to his ear and waited impatiently. 'Benton, what the devil's going on?' he demanded in clipped urgent tones.

'The Doctor and the boy have just come out of the main entrance, sir. Vaughn's with them.'

'Vaughn!' echoed the Brigadier in surprise.

'And Packer, sir. They're getting into Vaughn's Rolls.'

The Brigadier stroked his neat moustache thoughtfully. 'Are they being harrassed, Benton?'

'Doesn't look like it, sir...'

The Brigadier was roughly jolted about as the Hercules touched down and coasted along the uneven concrete runway.

'Benton...' he shouted irritably.

'All looks quite friendly, sir. They're just being driven off now.

Shall we follow, sir?'

'Negative, Benton. Continue surveillance at your location.

Out.' Unlatching his seat belt, the Brigadier leaped to his. feet.

'Sergeant Walters, alert aerial patrol Section Three,' he instructed.

Then he turned to a tall, dark-haired young officer at the Situation Map. 'Captain Turner, as soon as we're on blocks get aboard a chopper and rendezvous with Section Three tracking agents,' he shouted above the engines as they revved at reverse pitch to slow the heavy plane. 'We'll play it by ear for a bit so keep your nose out of trouble.'

'Yes, sir,' snapped Turner with a crisp salute. 'Should the Doctor contact us for help I'll have him connected directly to you.'

Turner strode away towards the huge cargo bay at the rear, briskly snapping instructions right and left.

The Brigadier studied the brightly coloured Situation Map for a long time, occasionally breaking off to receive a report or to issue a string of orders to the widely spread and versatile forces under his overall command.

At last Captain Turner came through, shouting above the din of the helicopter engine on the radiotelephone. 'They've just gone through the IE Compound gates, sir. They seem to be heading for the Factory Complex.'

The Brigadier's calm exterior betrayed a brief tremor of excitement. 'Circle the area but keep out of sight, Jimmy,' he advised.

'If you're spotted it might make things worse for our two friends. We can't do anything until we get a request for assistance.'

He signed off and took a sip of cold tea from his chipped mug.

'After all, this is all rather unofficial...' he murmured wryly to himself.

The Doctor remained silent during the short high-speed drive out of London, his eyes fixed steadfastly on the disturbing International Electromatix symbol on the pennant flying from the front wing of the enormous white Rolls Royce.

'The train with the empty containers will not arrive for some time,' Vaughn informed him as they drew up in front of what appeared to be a smaller version of the Company's City headquarters.

'Meanwhile, I'd rather like to talk to you about those fascinating circuits you left with me.'

At the door of his private elevator in the foyer, Vaughn turned to his Deputy. 'Packer, be so good as to see what progress Professor Watkins is making,' he purred. 'You might even offer him a little gentle encouragement.' Then he ushered his visitors up to the top floor.

As they walked into the spacious, functional office Jamie whistled in astonishment. 'It's just like your London office,' he exclaimed.

Vaughn chuckled amiably. 'Confusing, isn't it?' He motioned them to sit down in the stylish chairs facing his desk. 'It's the secret of my success, Doctor - standardisation and uniformity.'

'Mass production,' remarked the Doctor with obvious distaste.

Jamie hovered by the huge window, staring down between the vertical louvres at the complex of large factory buildings spread below. Steam and smoke rose everywhere and a distant humming sounded constantly.

'The essence of efficiency, Doctor.' Vaughn said expansively.

The Doctor smiled blandly back at him, giving nothing away.

'I should be angry with you both,' Vaughn went on. 'You have thwarted my security system twice. Why?'

The Doctor shrugged casually. 'It's quite simple, Mr Vaughn. I detest computers and I refuse to be controlled by them.'

'Your young friend Zoe appears to feel the same. She completely destroyed one of our reception installations.'

Jamie spun round. 'So that's why your bully boys got hold of her and Isobel,' he blurted out.

Vaughn turned to him with an offended smile. 'My dear young man, on the contrary I found the incident quite amusing. She's a remarkable girl,' he turned back to the Doctor. 'And you, Doctor, are a remarkable man.'

The Doctor blushed. 'Why do you say that?' he inquired modestly.

Vaughn took the two circuit panels from the TARDIS from his inner pocket and laid them on the desk. 'Our Research Department found these baffling. Their structure seems totally illogical. Did you invent them yourself?'

The Doctor remained enigmatically silent.

Vaughn stood up, cleverly concealing his frustration. 'So you are determined to preserve your secrets, Doctor. I can hardly blame you. We shall do all we can to help.'

The Doctor inclined his head. 'You're very kind.'

Vaughn walked over to his private elevator. 'Please make yourselves at home,' he said graciously.'I will see if I can personally persuade Professor Watkins to divert his talents to investigating your little problem.'

As soon as he had gone, Jamie rushed over to the Doctor.

'What aboot Zoe and Isobel?' he cried.

'Don't worry. I haven't forgotten them,' the Doctor assured him.

'Och, I know they were in those box things, Doctor.'

The Doctor held up his hands patiently. 'Jamie, we won't help the girls by annoying Mr Vaughn,' he warned him.

'But he's being nice as pie to us.'

'Too nice, Jamie.' The Doctor picked up the circuits. 'And he's a little too interested in these for my liking.'

Jamie's eyes widened. 'Do ye think he knows aboot the TARDIS, Doctor?' he whispered.

'I don't see how he could.'

Jamie went back over to the panoramic window 'Och well, perhaps the Professor will be able to tell us what's happening here.'

The Doctor bit his lip and sighed. 'That's what puzzles me, Jamie. If Vaughn has anything to hide, why is he going to allow us to see Watkins?'

In a cluttered room in the basement below the building, Packer was lounging against the wall staring with sneering contempt at a short stout balding man of about sixty clad in baggy trousers, rolled-up shirtsleeves and an unbuttoned waistcoat. The bearded little man gazed back at Packer with undisguised loathing through thick wire-framed spectacles. Electronic circuitry and tangles of cable were scattered over a large bench and even over the crude unmade bunk in one corner.

'She's a pretty girl, your niece,' Packer was saying casually.

'It'd be such a shame to spoil her.'

'You're a pathetic little sadist, Packer,' Professor Watkins retorted sadly. 'I don't believe you anyway.'

Packer stepped towards him, eyes blazing. 'You know I don't make idle threats. If you value the girl you'll do as Mr Vaughn wishes.'

Watkins snorted. 'Assuming you really have got Isobel, how do I know you haven't harmed her already?'

At that moment Vaughn appeared in the doorway. 'You can take my word for that, Professor,' he announced soothingly.

Watkins turned sharply, squinting through his pebble lenses.

'Your word!' he scoffed dismissively.

Vaughn strolled across to the bench and frowned at a complicated assemblage of partially connected cathode tubes, transistors and coils almost buried within a web of tiny coloured wires. 'So you still haven't completed the device...' he scolded menacingly.

'No. I don't intend to complete it,' snapped Watkins.

Vaughn swung round on the trembling little figure. 'Oh, I think you will, Professor,' he purred. 'Otherwise, much as I abhore violence, I might not he able to restrain Packer's enthusiasm for persuasive hospitality. The choice is yours.'