第 24 页

The Brigadier passed the transmitter back to Yates. 'Where's Corporal Bell?'

'Still at the police station, sir,' replied Osgood.

The Brigadier looked back towards the town. 'Not much to learn, is there?'

'No, sir,' said Yates. 'I suggest that a couple of us stay here for the night. See if anything unusual turns up.'

'Good idea, Sergeant. You keep a couple of your men here. I'll go back to HQ with the corporals. Osgood, can you drive the other car?'

'Yes, sir.'

The Brigadier swapped places with Yates to leave the sergeant standing outside the car, next to Osgood. 'We'll pick Bell up at the station. Got your radio, Yates?'

The sergeant produced a small walkie-talkie from under his jacket. 'And I'm armed, sir.'

The Brigadier told Yates that he was to observe, not take any risks. When the sergeant agreed, the Brigadier started the motor and began the long drive back to London.

He watched Yates and Osgood's figures fade into the distance as he and Corporal Hawke sped out of Smallmarshes on the road to Dover. 'Do you mind the long way round, Corporal?'

'No, sir. I like the Kent countryside.'

'Good girl' He watched the road for a few moments before clearing his throat. 'Good man, Mike Yates, don't you think?'

Hawke smiled. 'He's a good officer, sir.'

'Oh come on, Maisie. I'm not asking about just his military skills. He's intuitive. He's got exceptional leadership qualities, don't you think?'

'I think, with respect sir, that those are military skills.' She opened the glove compartment, producing another bar of chocolate. 'A bite, sir?'

'No thanks. My wife is on at me not to put on weight.' He paused. 'On the other hand, some chocolate would be very nice right now. Thank you.'

He could see Hawke relax a little more. Good, that was what he wanted. He tried a different tack.

'We've served together quite a while now, Corporal, haven't we?'

'Three years, sir. I've enjoyed it. For the most part.' Hawke nibbled on some chocolate and broke a piece off for the Brigadier, passing it as she spoke. They were about twelve miles from Dungeness, and another ten from the road that led towards London. 'Corporal. Maisie. I'm thinking it is time for some promotions within UNIT. Possibly a captain.'

Hawke let her head fall back against the head rest. 'I appreciate what you're saying, sir. Really I do. But I think you're right, you do need a captain. The troops could do with some stability as well. A handful of sergeants and corporals are all very well, but the command structure needs to be strengthened.'

'Yates? Benton? Someone from outside?'

'Mike Yates would make a fine captain, sir. As I said, I appreciate your waiting this long, but Sam is dead and life has to go on, for everyone.'

The Brigadier felt himself flush slightly. She had caught on. In fact, she'd probably caught on ages ago that he was putting off making any promotions to avoid upsetting her. 'That means there'll be a sergeant's job up for grabs. It's yours if you want it.'

She turned sharply and smiled. 'A nice idea, sir, but I'm not one of the troops. If someone like myself or Carol Bell went for a sergeant's job, we'd have to move away from UNIT. I know I speak for her by saying that neither of us want that.'

The Brigadier nodded. 'I could try for a special dispensation. You'd be one of the few female sergeants in the British Army.'

They were passing through Dungeness now, and they could just make out the distant bulk of the nuclear power station, dwarfing a nearby cluster of terraced houses.

'No thanks, sir. I like what I do. Tom Osgood would make a good sergeant. He's a technical wizard and although he can be a bit eccentric at times, the lads like him a lot. He'd be popular.'

The Brigadier steered the car into the turning for London. 'Thank you, corporal, for your appraisal. As usual, I expect I will act upon it.'

After five minutes he switched on the radio, and Radio Four filled the silence that had blanketed the car's interior.

'I feel sea-sick. Just thought you ought to know.' Liz Shaw tried smiling at her companion as their motor boat was tossed like a salad by the twenty-foot-high waves. At least, that was what it felt like. In fact, the sea wasn't that choppy, but the constant motion and the drone of the engine had made Liz feel very unwell indeed.

'Nearly there, Doctor Shaw. And I thought you looked sturdier than this.' At the back of the boat, steering it, Jana Kristan looked for all the world like a misplaced figurehead, her jaw set firmly against the buffeting wind and spray, her brown overcoat billowing behind her. All Liz wanted to do was hide under the tarpaulin she had found tucked under seat, and emerge when they reached the island.

Sturdier? She had never felt worse. She just hoped she would not have to use her favourite hat as a sick bag.

They had flown from Southampton to St Helier on Jersey, taken the ferry to Guernsey, and then hired the outboard to take them across to their mysterious island which, the man at the boat-hire company told them, was called L'Ithe. It was not until they were on the boat that Jana confessed she had accidentally left all the notes given to them by their mysterious correspondent back at Liz's flat. However, she had remembered enough for them to work out which island was their destination.

'It's a very small lump of rock,' Jana yelled over the noise. 'Only a couple of miles across. It shouldn't take long to find whatever it is that sent us after.'

Liz just nodded, trying to keep the aeroplane snack down, and praying that they would get there soon.

---

'Where exactly are you taking me?' asked Sir Marmaduke Harrington-Smythe. 'Not back to the Glasshous, I imagine.'

'Oh, certainly not,' said the pale young man. 'By now, UNIT will be crawling all over it, and searching for various things they won't find.' He pointed at the trees at the side of the road. 'This is a very nice part of the country. I used to enjoy walking though the trees and fields when I was younger. Especially when it was dark.'

Sir Marmaduke wondered if they were going slowly enough for him to jump out. He looked forwards, and saw Ceillian's eyes reflected in the rear-view mirror. Piercing blue, they stared straight back. As if he was reading Sir Marmaduke's mind, the car sped up a bit.

Damn.

'How long have my trusted aides here been working for you?' Sir Marmaduke asked.

The young man opened up a small wooden box built into the floor of the Mercedes. He took out a small bottle of Gordon's gin and another tonic.

'Ice?'

Sir Marmaduke bristled. 'I don't want a drink. I would like an answer to my question.'

The pale young man shrugged and flicked his finger at the top of the bottle. The vacuum-sealed metal cap flipped off and up, embedding itself in the roof. Sir Marmaduke stared as the pale young man extracted a glass from the same box and mixed himself a drink. He then looked Sir Marmaduke straight in the eye, swallowed the drink in one gulp and replaced the grass. He picked up the empty gin bottle and held it upright between the palms of his hands.

'This, Sir Marmaduke, is your career.'

Sir Marmaduke watched open-mouthed as he slammed his palms together. Instead of shattering and cutting both of them to ribbons, the bottle seemed to vanish. The pale young man opened his palms, revealing thousands of fragments of powdered glass.

'How -?'

His kidnapper shrugged. 'Just a knack. No, that's a lie, I'm stronger than the average human. My reflexes are faster than the average human's. My life expectancy, barring accidents, is longer than the average human's. Oh, and' - he removed his glasses again, revealing his mechanical eyes - 'my eyesight is better than the average human's. It extends beyoned the normal spectrum into the infra-red. I can see colours that the average human doesn't even dream exist.'

'Are you human?'

'Oh yes. But I'm also much better than human now. Augmented by a technology the rest of you can't begin to imagine. And before you ask, yes, alien technology.'

Sir Marmaduke again asked how long Ciara and Ceillan had been working against him.

'Since before you employed them. I... well, created them I suppose, about seven or eight months ago. Using technology that you had a hand in.'

'Me?'

The pale young man smiled. 'You'll find out very soon. Now, tell me everything you know about the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce that I don't already know from working at C19.'

The car drove on as the sky began to darken with the fall of night.

Sergeant Benton stood in the doorway. Three UNIT soldiers were hovering by the reception desk, including Corporal Tracy and Private Boyle. Benton looked at the body of the receptionist, but Boyle shook his head.

'Is there anyone left alive?' Benton asked.

'Not on this floor,' said Tracy. 'All the patients and nursing staff were in the wards, on the top four floors. They weren't even aware of any of this until an hour ago.' The corporal pointed to the receptionist's telephone. 'One of the staff nurses heard it buzzing and came down to see why it hadn't been answered. There,' - he pointed at the body - 'was the reason.'

Benton stared at the carnage, holstering his gun. 'Yes. But why, Tracy? What was there here that she had to die for?'

Corporal Champion approached from the corridor opposite. 'I think you'd best see this, sir.'

Benton and Tracy followed Champion down the corridor, briefly staring at a dead male nurse, his blood drying on a sheaf of scattered papers. They passed two more bodies at the junction of the corridor before Champion pointed at an unremarkable door.

'A cupboard, corporal?'

'Not exactly, sir.' He pushed at the door and, with a hum, it slid upwards.

Both Sergeant Benton and Corporal Tracy allowed their surprise to show. 'Well, I've been here a few times with the Brig,' said Benton, 'but I've never seen this part before. Either of you?'

'Absolutely not, sir.' Corporal Champion led them further on. They were now in another corridor, which seemed to be sloping downwards. At the bottom was a series of connecting routes.

'It's like a maze, sir,' said Tracy. 'Shipman and Farley went exploring a few moments ago. They should be back soon.' No sooner had Champion spoken than Farley's voice called out from the left-hand corridor. Sergeant Benton led the way towards him, noting the various doors and sub-corridors leading off the corridor. 'This must extend for nearly a mile. Impressive.'

They met Farley outside an oak-panelled door. Sprawled in front of it were another two bodies.

'In there, sir. It's not pretty.'

Farley opened the door and Benton found himself looking into a large laboratory, lights in the ceiling illuminating various areas, like spotlights in a circus.

He saw the man on the far side of the room first, but the bullets which had blown away most of his head had rendered him unrecognizable.

'Shame that,' said Benton. 'He's not nursing staff, so we can't ID him.'

Corporal Champion stared at him. 'We can't identify any of these poor blighters, then. None of the people in here were nurses.'

'No, Corporal, we can't. The Glasshouse is top secret. Frankly, only the Brigadier and his main staff, and Doctor Sweetman of course, officially know about it.'

Farley coughed. 'Actually, sir, just about everyone at UNIT does. It's always been...'

'A bit of a joke to be sent here. Yes, Private, I know. I was a private too, once.' Benton pointed to the opposite wall. 'And there's another.'

Champion stood upright with a start. 'Sergeant Benton, what was that man doing over there?'

Benton strode over to examine the unrecognizable corpse by the far wall. 'Nothing... Wait a mo! Oh, this seems a bit stupid, but there's a pen and someone's -,'

'Drawn pictures on the wall, Sergeant? Mammoths, tigers, that sort of thing?' Champion hurried over.

Benton nodded. 'That's about the size of it, Corporal. Why?'

'Just remembering something, sir. From those caves in Derbyshire, when me and some of the lads went up there with Captain Hawkins. Steve Robins was drawing pictures like that when those Reptile things trapped us there. Silurians, I think the Brigadier called them. And Sergeant Yates mentioned them when he rounded C Patrol up this morning to go down south. Come to think of it, Steve ended up in here for about six weeks before going back to the regular army.'

'All right.' Benton thought for a moment. 'And apart from the Doc, they're looking for some missing policewoman who drew similar pictures.'

Tracy vocalized what they were all thinking. 'So that policewoman must have ended up here, then.'

Suddenly, Boyle bustled in with Private Shipman. 'We found a large office, sir,' Boyle said. 'Look at these.'

Shipman handed over a sheaf of photographs that seemed to have been pinned up, judging by the tiny holes in the top of them.

'Let me see those.' Benton swiped them from the private's outstretched hands. 'Yes, look at this. Whoever came here probably didn't murder all these people out of hand, then - they had a far greater purpose.' He passed the two corporals one of the photographs. 'Either of you recognize her?'

'That's the policewoman the Brig's been hunting for.'

'Yes, Champion. And that's why he couldn't find her down in Kent. She was here and, as we haven't found her body, she's probably been taken away, possibly by someone who wants her alive and ready to talk about your Derbyshire Reptiles.' Benton looked around the huge room, trying not to focus on the two bodies and the drawings. 'I reckon this is a medical or biological lab of some sort.'