Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [114]
What are you waiting for? Shoot first and ask questions later.’
Medford pulled the trigger.
A bloodstained hand yanked the gun down, and the bullet impacted into the floor. The ground was still reverberating from that as the younger Doctor wrestled with the Provost-General. Despite being middle-aged, Medford was the stronger man, shoving the Doctor aside with little effort. Whitford had never been proud that her lover was a soldier, she had never quite reconciled the gentle man she talked to in the still of the night with the man who killed people with his bare hands. As he raised his arm, ready to pistol-whip his opponent, she felt only shame, which turned to relief when she realized that the pistol was no longer in his hand.
The little Doctor was holding it gingerly by the barrel, as if the gun was radioactive. ‘But life’s never that simple, is it?’ he concluded sadly.
Medford whirled around, and began striding towards him. ‘Give me the gun,’ the Provost-General snarled.
The Doctor tossed the gun in the air, over Medford’s head, just too high for him to reach up and grab it. As it arced back down, the other Doctor caught it. Medford advanced on the Doctor with the gun. The door to the corridor outside opened automatically as Medford passed it. There were a couple of people in the doorway, Whitfield thought at first that they were Adjudicator reinforcements, although she couldn’t remember the Provost-General calling for them. Instead, a large angular shape came flying in, connecting with Medford’s back.
Whitfield realized that it was Roz Forrester, performing some martial arts manoeuvre or other. Both she and Medford were pulling themselves up, bringing their arms up into defensive poses. Forrester was still in her kimono, and looked about half the size of the Provost-General in his armour. She wasn’t that much younger than him, either, but somehow they looked almost evenly-matched, Adric was behind them, coming through the door, edging round them.
‘Out the way, both of you!’ the younger Doctor shouted.
Whitfield calmly registered the following sequence of events:
The entire room turned to face the Doctor. He was holding Medford’s pistol in both hands, aiming it squarely at its owner’s chest. His eyes were narrow.
Forrester and Adric dived for cover in opposite directions. The Doctor fired the pistol.
The bullet slammed into Medford’s stomach, lifting him off the ground and throwing him back a metre into the air, straight through the door.
The air was filled with the sound and smell of the gunshot.
The other Doctor was the first to his feet. Before anyone else had even reacted he was by the doorway, slapping the control. The door slammed resoundingly shut.
Forrester was at the walltop computer, pulling her kimono back into place. ‘By authority of Provost-General Forrester, R S, raise the security screens around the observation dome.’ The perspex bubble became opaque.
Outside, Whitfield could hear metal shutters clanking into place. There was a low buzzing in the air, a forcewall. ‘This order can only be countermanded by myself.’
‘Provost-General?’ the little Doctor scowled.
‘I’m overdue for a promotion,’ Roz said simply.
Adric handed the Doctor back his umbrella. ‘We hacked into the computer and upped our security clearance. We’re both Provost-Generals.’
‘You do not become Provost-General by killing the incumbent,’ the Chief Scientist noted. She was alone in here now, sealed in with two Doctors and two of his companions. They were all staring at her.
‘Medford’s not dead,’ the younger Doctor stated. He was standing at a table, emptying the bullets from the pistol.
‘Projectile weaponry