Doctor Who_ Deep Blue - Mark Morris [62]
Charlotte reached out and grasped his hand. ‘You will come back and see me, won’t you?’
‘Of course I will. Just as soon as I can.’ He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Now you get some rest, and I’ll be back before you know it.’
The seafront was in chaos, police and holidaymakers milling around in confusion. A crowd was standing in the road like sheep, immobilised by shock. Several times the Brigadier had to lean on his horn to encourage the crowd to part enough to allow the UNIT convoy to edge through. On the promenade a dozen or more empty emergency vehicles were parked haphazardly, lights flashing.
The whole situation had a feeling of aftermath to it, which the Brigadier recognised only too well. He knew that the emergency vehicles were empty because their crews were tending to the wounded. This, coupled with the fact that there was no panic among the crowds, merely a sense of stunned incomprehension, was evidence enough that the creature was no longer running loose nearby, but had moved on to pastures new. UNIT’S job was to track it and, if possible, contain it. Seeing the Lombard Hotel looming large on his right, he reached for the RT on the passenger seat.
‘Greyhound One to...’ the Brigadier began, confidently enough, then floundered. Good lord, what was Benton’s call sign? Angrily he barked, ‘Benton, are you there? Over.’
Benton’s voice came back, the caution in it evident despite the tinny reception. ‘Er... here, sir. Is everything all right?
Over.’
‘No, Benton, it is not all right. The police operation is a shambles. I’m stopping off here to pick up the Doctor. I want this area evacuated and cordoned off, and I want to know where that damned creature’s got to. Over.’
‘Leave it to me, sir. I’ll get on to it right away. Over and out.’
The Brigadier nodded in satisfaction and tossed the RT
back on to the passenger seat. There was nothing like a bit of direct action to get the adrenaline going, focus the mind. He ignored the fact that he was still battling to concentrate on the matter in hand. His mind kept wandering, but the Brigadier was determined to keep on top of things even if it killed him.
He parked on the double yellows outside the hotel and marched up the steps into Reception. There was another crowd in the lobby, the air buzzing with speculation, strangers united by the need to share their experiences of that afternoon’s astonishing events.
As soon as he spotted the skinny, copper-haired young man with the peculiar eyebrows, the Brigadier recognised him. Had it been yesterday or this morning when they had met? He pushed the thought aside, irritated by his inability to remember, and strode across. He was aware of the looks his uniformed presence was attracting, and deliberately focused on the young man (whose name - Turlough - popped suddenly into his mind). Turlough was sitting with his hands between his knees, looking nervous and uncomfortable, like a schoolboy summoned to his headmaster’s study to explain some misdemeanour. Beside him, standing with her arms folded, was an attractive young woman in a brightly coloured summer dress, whom the Brigadier barely glanced at until she hailed him by name.
He looked at her, startled. ‘I’m sorry, miss, do I know you?’
The young woman looked nonplussed. ‘Well, of course you do! I’m... no, hang on a minute. You haven’t met me yet, have you? Tegan Jovanka,’ she announced, holding out her hand.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Tegan Jovanka. That’s my name. I travel with the Doctor.’
‘I see,’ said the Brigadier. ‘And where is the Doctor?’
‘Down on the beach,’ said Turlough.
‘On the beach? I gave specific instructions -’
‘The creature’s gone,’ Turlough interjected, his quiet voice cutting through the Brigadier’s bluster. ‘It had gone before we even heard about it.’
‘We told the Doctor we’d wait here for you,’ said Tegan, a little shame-faced. She glanced at Turlough as if for support.
‘Neither of us much fancied going down on to the beach.’
‘It’s like a battlefield down there,’ Turlough said by way of explanation.