Broadhurst scowled. ‘You’ve changed your tune. You’re fleeing New London without even putting up a token defence?’ he growled.
‘What defence is there?’ London asked wearily. ‘They’ve wrecked most of our army. All we can do now is to escape.’
‘We’ll never be able to get our families out before they arrive,’ Durgan whined. ‘There isn’t time for that. They’ll be trapped here and killed.’
‘You should have planned for it,’ London informed him coldly ‘I did.’
‘So did I,’ McAndrew added, smiling slightly. He moved, and London was abruptly aware of something in the man’s hand a second before McAndrew used the knife to slice through his throat…
McAndrew watched as London gasped, choking on his own blood, clutching at his half‐severed neck as if to somehow stop the spray. Specks dotted McAndrew’s jacket and face, but he ignored them and the near‐dead man, turning to look at his shocked comrades.
‘We now have something to offer for our lives,’ he explained. ‘Proof positive that London is defeated and dead.’ He kicked the former Lord as he collapsed, choking and dying, to the floor. ‘This carcass can buy us our lives and our freedom.’
Durgan looked ready to faint any second; the man was a weak fool. But Broadhurst nodded his understanding. He, at least, seemed to appreciate necessity.
‘I think we’d better contact Haldoran,’ Broadhurst said slowly. ‘And negotiate our surrender.’
Nodding, McAndrew moved towards the communication equipment. Something could yet be salvaged from their defeat…
It seemed as if her torture was never going to end. Donna stared up at Barlow’s astonishingly impassive face as he regarded her, David and the Doctor. His men had them surrounded, and there was no way they could fight their way free. Barlow held out his hand and she meekly turned over her pistol.
‘I have a strange suspicion that I’m looking at the remains of the weapons I returned to collect,’ he commented.
‘Quite correct,’ the Doctor agreed, sitting up.
‘Ah.’ Barlow nodded slightly. ‘I was looking forward to using them, too. Well, can any of you think of a good reason why I shouldn’t have you executed here and now?’
‘Yes,’ said Donna and the Doctor at precisely the same moment.
Barlow raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, it looks as though I may have been a trifle hasty.’ His eyes met Donna’s. ‘Perhaps we’d better let ladies go first.’
‘Because there’s no point to it,’ she answered. ‘Haldoran’s dead. I blew what few brains he had out.’
That got some reaction at last from the soldier. Not grief, certainly, and not exactly relief. Donna couldn’t recall Barlow very well. He’d been considered a good soldier, but he’d never indulged in the popular pastime of torturing her that Downs and Portney had so enjoyed. He’d been considered a trifle odd. All she could remember of him was that he had a wife and a couple of children, and that he was a brutally efficient warrior. Complicated emotions seemed at play within him right now.
‘Interesting news,’ he finally decided. ‘But that’s not an argument against shooting you. Quite the reverse, if anything. You’ve just confessed to murder.’
‘Mercy killing,’ Donna corrected. ‘But I’m the one responsible, not the Doctor or David. Kill me if you like – to be honest, I think it would be a good trade. I dispose of Haldoran and Downs, and you put me out of my misery.’
‘Downs as well?’ Barlow was back to his faintly mocking attitude. ‘My, you have been a busy girl. Though I have to confess you show good taste in selecting your victims.’ He studied the Doctor. ‘And what’s your reason why I shouldn’t execute you?’
‘Daleks,’ said the Doctor simply.
‘Daleks?’ Barlow laughed. ‘There are no Daleks! It’s my men, armed with Dalek guns I swear, people are really paranoid about those metal monsters. Take it from me, they’re dead.’
‘Not necessarily,’ the Doctor answered. ‘The man you know as Estro has been subverting power from your nuclear reactor and feeding it into DA‐17.’
Barlow’s eyes lit up. ‘Ah. So that’s where he’s been getting the guns from.’
‘No it isn’t,’ the Doctor snapped. ‘He stole the guns while he was working for the Daleks. I doubt they’re very happy about that, especially since he had to destroy one of their hatcheries to do it. He’s after DA‐17 because he believes there’s a weapon within that will make your new weapons seem like peashooters.’
That perked up Barlow’s interest. ‘And is there?’ he asked.
‘How should I know?’ the Doctor retorted. ‘I was on my way to investigate it when I was brought here, hit about the head and threatened with death several times over. If you’ll be kind enough to spare our lives, I intend to go there immediately to check on the place.’
David gave a tight smile. ‘Estro lost contact with his men there,’ he added. ‘Something’s gone wrong.’
Barlow nodded. ‘And what makes you think it’s Daleks?’ he asked.
‘Every instinct in my body,’ the Doctor answered.” And I have a lot of those. It doesn’t seem to matter how often I destroy the Daleks, they always come back. And Estro is arrogant enough to have reactivated them without knowing it.’ He stared earnestly at Barlow. ‘Trust me, man – if the Daleks have revived, this little war you’re waging for control of Britain is going to become utterly insignificant.’
‘My father fought the Daleks, Doctor,’ Barlow said grimly. ‘He impressed on me how dangerous and evil they are. If you’re right in your belief, I’m inclined to agree with you that we should stop our own war and attack them. But I’ll need proof.’
‘The only place you’ll get that is DA‐17,’ the Doctor pointed out.
‘Fair enough,’ Barlow agreed.
‘And the first thing you need to do,’ the Doctor said, ‘is to cut off the power that’s going to the site. The Daleks are using it for their own purposes.’
‘Agreed.’ Barlow turned to one of his men, and sent him off after Murdock with firm instructions to cut the power flow to DA‐17. He then offered a hand to Donna. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you all have amnesty for now. I may extend it later.’
Taking his offer of help, Donna stood up. ‘Do I get my gun back?’ she asked.
He grinned. ‘If we see any Daleks, I’ll arm you myself,’ he promised. ‘Until then… well, just be satisfied with today’s kills, OK?’
She didn’t know how to take him. He was almost impossible to read, and even harder to understand. ‘We’re going to need transport,’ she pointed out.
‘That I can arrange,’ Barlow answered. ‘But first, we have to do some clearing out.’ He turned to one of Haldoran’s men, who had been standing around looking scared and confused. ‘I want all of your officers out here immediately,’ he announced. ‘And any of Haldoran’s family you find. Move.’ The man hesitated, saluted, and then headed at a trot for the intact portions of the castle. Barlow nodded to two of his men. ‘Go with him. If anyone causes trouble, shoot them.’
‘A little ruthless, aren’t we?’ the Doctor asked mildly.
‘If we’re going off to fight Daleks,’ Barlow informed him coldly, ‘I’m not leaving anyone here I can’t trust. I don’t want to have to fight another battle when I return.
Donna gave him a disgusted look. ‘So you’re seizing power now Haldoran’s dead?’ she asked contemptuously.
‘Someone has to do it,’ he replied. ‘And, frankly, I can’t think of a better man for the job. Unlike most of your ex‐husband’s men, I’m not a sadist or a thief. But neither am I stupid. We move from here just as soon as I’m certain I can come back if I want to.’
‘If you want to?’ Donna scowled. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means that I might be moving into your father’s old suite when we’re done,’ he answered. ‘New London is just about ready to fall.’