Doctor Who_ Illegal Alien - Mike Tucker [80]
She couldn't stop herself from shaking.
'I trust you have recovered from the rigours of the journey.'
He was a model of polite hospitality.
'Like you care. Where am I?'
'You are our guest. While you are with us you will be extended every courtesy. There is a guard outside your door at all times. Please inform him if there is anything we can provide for your comfort.'
Ace shook her head. 'I can't believe this! You electrocuted me! You rammed a cattle prod into my guts!'
Hartmann shrugged. 'Regrettable but necessary.'
'But then you Nazis are good at treating people like cattle, aren't you?'
He smiled. 'Propaganda and lies. You must bear in mind, young woman, that there is a war on. Each side always tries to paint the other in the worst possible light.'
'Oh, no, mate. I know all about you lot. Everybody does.
Believe me, when this war ends, it won't be pretty. You're going to lose, and then you'll get it in the neck. They'll be stringing you up like dogs.'
'Lose?' He slapped his thigh. He seemed to find the prospect hilarious. 'Already we control most of Europe. We have even planted our victory standard on British soil. We cannot lose!'
British soil? Ace was beginning to panic. That was impossible. It never happened.
What if the Doctor was right? What if the thing he so feared had come to pass? The Cybermen were here, for God's sake. Everything was screwed up. Maybe history had gone wrong.
Hartmann took his hands from behind his back. He was holding Ace's Walkman. 'I am very curious to know what this is,' he said blandly. 'What does it look like, Herman? It's a Sony Walkman..' 'What is its function?' 'Get stuffed.'
'Your language is very strange. I am not familiar with many of the expressions you use; but this last one this... get stuffed. That, I think, I understand.'
'Do it, then. Go on, bog off.' Suddenly, Hartmann's tone was flinty. He wasn't smiling. 'This, as I said earlier, is a guest suite. There are other rooms in this complex which are considerably less comfortable.' He turned on his heel and marched out of the room. The door swung shut behind him.
The day dragged on. With nothing else to do, Ace tried to make herself comfortable on the absurdly luxurious bed.
Tried to sleep.
Where was she? Where was the Doctor? Was there any way he could find her here?
It was no good; she couldn't sleep. Somewhere, deep down, far off, she could hear the faintest of noises. Screams.
Rhythmic screams, one after another. For nearly an hour they continued. Ace blocked her ears but she could still hear them. If anything they seemed to get louder.
Then they stopped.
Silence.
The silence was louder than the screams. It seemed to go on for ever. Day through the tiny window became night.
And then footsteps again. Hartmann. She sprang to her feet. The door opened and the SS captain stood before her.
His face was unreadable now. A mask. Again he was holding her Walkman.
'What is the function of this device?' 'Why don't you just '
He brought the back of his hand hard across her face. She staggered and fell beneath the weight of the blow. 'I do not wish to hear any more of your degenerate filth!' He turned again and walked from the room. The guard moved in to take his place easily sixteen stone of muscle and mindless obedience. He grabbed Ace hard by the wrist and hauled her to her feet. Not waiting for her to regain her balance he dragged her from the room and down a long, greytiled corridor. At the end of the corridor was a metal door, painted the sort of drab, depressing green which, even in Ace's day, denoted some official, functional, and unpleasant purpose.
Hartmann held the door open as the guard pulled the kicking, struggling Ace through it. Beyond was a wide, lowroofed area, plain concrete supported by stocky concrete pillars. The floor was black with burn marks;