‘Thank you for stopping,’ he said politely. ‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Uh, yes, sir,’ the youngster replied. ‘General Tomlin, sir.’
‘Very good,’ Tomlin said approvingly. He brought his pistol up and fired once scattering the man’s brains all over the back seat of the vehicle. ‘I have greater need of this than you do.’ He pushed the corpse out of the door, and clambered behind the wheel.
He set the runabout in motion, and turned it back down the road, heading for Castle Haldoran.
‘There’s a message from General Craddock, my Lord,’ the operator called.
Haldoran looked up from his map and nodded. ‘And what does he want?’ he asked.
‘To speak to you, my Lord. Says it’s urgent.’
‘Is it, indeed?’ Smiling to himself, Haldoran walked over to pick up the proffered headset. ‘What is it, Craddock?’
‘My Lord,’ the soldier’s voice replied, ‘I’ve been observing the effect of the Dalek weapons. They’re tremendously effective.’
‘That I already knew,’ Haldoran snapped. ‘Come to the point.’
‘I want the next batch issued to my men, my Lord,’ Craddock replied bluntly. ‘Barlow has enough of them already.’
Haldoran’s smile widened. As he’d hoped, there was a wedge between the two men. Perfect! ‘I’ll give your request some thought,’ he promised. ‘Now, get back to taking my capital.’ He returned the headset to the operator, and strode back to his war table grinning at Estro. ‘It looks like Portney gets to keep his hands,’ he said cheerfully. ‘At least for now Craddock is demanding the next set of Dalek weapons for his men.’
Estro smiled back. ‘And you plan to give them to him?’
‘Certainly not,’ Haldoran answered. He turned back to the radio operator. ‘Call Barlow and tell him that he can come back here in person and pick up the next hatch of weapons.’ He smiled at Estro. ‘That should make the rift even stronger,’ he said. ‘They’ll both work for me, but they won’t work with one another, of that I’m certain.’
‘A sound decision,’ Estro agreed.
A guard entered the war room and saluted. ‘Sir, a batch of prisoners has arrived. They were taken at DA‐17.’
‘Were they indeed?’ Estro purred. ‘With your permission, my Lord, I should like to interrogate these prisoners personally I need to know how much London’s men know about the Artefact.’
Haldoran inclined his head in permission. ‘Take Downs with you,’ he decided. ‘He has a… wonderful capacity for extracting information.’
‘I have my own methods,’ Estro answered.
‘I’m sure that you do,’ Haldoran replied coldly. ‘But that was not a suggestion.’
Estro hesitated, and then nodded acquiescence. ‘Of course, my Lord. I’m sure his talents will prove most… interesting.’ He spun on his heels and left the room.
Looking after him, Haldoran was disturbed. He had noticed in the past how undeferential Estro tended to be. He very rarely addressed Haldoran by the honorific. Now he’d used it twice in a minute. For some reason, that disturbed him. If the man wasn’t so vital to his plans, Haldoran would have had him executed just to be safe. But the damned plotter no doubt knew that.
What was he to do with the man?
Despite the Doctor’s firm grip on her hand, Donna was terrified. Stepping back inside the castle had meant nothing but pain, humiliation and disillusion to her, and it was the hardest thing she had ever done. She tried to remind herself that she was a knight now, trained to fight and overcome all foes. But all she could think of was the horrors she’d suffered. Her body stiffened in anticipation of those pains being reborn.
She couldn’t face it. She couldn’t.
‘Be strong,’ the Doctor urged her. ‘This won’t be for long. And it won’t be like last time. I promise you.’
Another hand took her free one, and she realised that David Campbell, too, was offering her what small comfort and strength he had left. ‘Courage,’ he whispered. ‘You’re stronger than they are.’
Stronger? Who was he trying to fool? She felt as though her bowels were going to let loose any second, and she’d soil herself. She had neither strength nor courage. All she had left was the pain that she would feel, when –
The guards ushered them into a holding room, and then stood at their posts outside. There was no door, nor anything inside the room. It was simply four blank walls, a floor and a ceiling. There was nothing to sit on, look out of, or use for an escape.
Donna collapsed to the floor, dragging her hands free of both men’s. At least here she could go no lower, and she lacked the energy or will to remain standing. Her spirit was ebbing, and she knew that this place would destroy her, even if its master didn’t.
‘Well,’ drawled an old, hated voice. ‘This is surely a sight I never expected to see again. The Lady Donna, back from exile.’
Somehow she managed to force herself to look up at Downs. He stood casually, lounging against the entrance. His bright, nasty eyes were examining her, as if seeking a target for the first of his barbed attacks. Donna’s mouth was dry, and her heart pounding. She couldn’t focus her thoughts.
‘Hello,’ said the Doctor cheerily, stepping forward and shielding her from that hated gaze. ‘I’m the Doctor, and I’m very pleased to meet you. And you are…?’
‘Possibly your death,’ Downs replied, staring at the intruder.
‘Then possibly I’m not,’ the Doctor answered, refusing to be intimidated. ‘In which case, a name might help. Or should I just call you Fred?’
‘His name,’ Donna managed to grate out, ‘is Downs. He’s one of the worst pieces of scum in this whole stinking fortress.’
‘Really?’ asked the Doctor. ‘I’m a tidy person myself, and I don’t think scum belongs in a nice cell like this.’
Downs frowned slightly.’ Watch your tongue, Doctor,’ he replied. ‘Otherwise I’ll cut it out and hand it back to you so you can really watch it.’
‘Oh, you won’t do that,’ the Doctor said, radiating self‐assurance. ‘You’re supposed to interrogate me, and how could I speak without a tongue?’
‘You could still write,’ Downs snapped.
‘With my tongue in my hands? Don’t be silly.’ The Doctor smiled cheerfully. ‘I think we’ve got off to a bad start here. Couldn’t we just sit down for a nice chat over tea and scones?’
‘Doktoro,’ said a fresh voice, one that Donna had never heard before. ‘Mi ĝojas ke vi estas tiu kiun mi bezonis por kompletigi la ludon.’
The Doctor spun around to stare at the newcomer. ‘Tiam kiam mi aŭdis la nomon “Estro”, mi opiniis ke tiu devas esti vi. Via vanteco estos la fino de vi, estro de malbonestroj.’
David looked as confused as Donna felt. ‘Do you know each other?’
‘Oh yes,’ the Doctor said. ‘We know one another very well.’ He looked extremely grim. ‘He’s fond of calling himself the Master.’
Barlow received the radio operators recall with amusement. ‘Arkwright,’ he said briefly, ‘you’re in charge until I get back. Keep moving on. I want London pressured constantly to fall back. I’ll return as soon as possible.’
‘Understood, sir.’
Arkwright was a capable officer, if of limited imagination. Still, at this stage in the game, nothing much should go wrong. He could leave for a couple of hours to claim more of the guns. Then he would return and press home the final assault, aided by Craddock. It seemed as though their plan was working perfectly. Haldoran evidently believed there was a serious rift between the two men, and was working to exacerbate it.
Haldoran was clearly weak.
Barlow knew that what he was thinking would certainly get him killed if anyone else knew about it. But Haldoran could not be allowed to take the reins of the kingdom he was forging. Barlow knew what the man was like, and he despised it. A man like that should never be allowed the power that he sought, because he would simply abuse it. What Britain needed now was a strong hand, but also a disciplined one. And Haldoran was far too undisciplined…