Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [22]
Damn. One of the groups was falling back, heading for its original position. They’d soon be back at the clifftop, and they were bound to see the Doctor if they got that far. Benny steered the vehicle towards them, its primitive suspension almost throwing her from her seat. Military vehicles throughout history had never been built for comfort. The other two groups were now behind her, out of view, and she was getting too close to the cliff edge for comfort. She mustn’t let her mind wander. Damn!
The Doctor peered into the murk under the tarpaulin. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of salt, rotting leather and charcoal wafted out. He ran his finger along a metal panel which had blackened and warped in intense heat. His brow furrowed.
‘Do you know what it is?’
The Doctor shrugged. ‘It’s the most advanced piece of hardware this planet has seen. It’s years ahead of its time.
Whoever has this will almost certainly win the war.’
Puzzled, the Doctor looked over his shoulder to see who had asked the question. A powerfully built German officer held a pistol to his head. There was no one else on the beach. The man was wearing the neat black uniform of the Schutzstaffel. The pistol was a standard SS-issue Mauser.
The Doctor recognized the German officer as Standartenführer Joachim Wolff, the Butcher of Mallesan.
The Doctor hadn’t heard him arrive.
‘Keep silent.’
The Doctor closed his mouth.
‘Drop the umbrella.’
It fell to the wet sand.
‘Keep your hands on your head.’
The Doctor raised his hat mournfully.
4 Death and its Ramifications
It was a situation that required quick thinking. The Doctor lowered his hat and smiled disarmingly at the German officer.
‘You look like the sort of man who would like a Kola Nut.
Would you? I have a bag of them in my pocket.’
‘I’ve already eaten.’
At least he was listening. The Doctor decided to change tack and indicated the wreckage. ‘I know all about that.’
‘So you say,’ the German replied calmly.
‘And you are Joachim Wolff.’
‘You have me at a disadvantage.’ Wolff chuckled, but he didn’t lower the gun. The Doctor stared down the barrel, nervously licking his lips.
‘I’m the Doctor. Now you’ll want to question me, won’t you? Interrogate me? Grill me? Give me the works?’
suggested the Doctor hopefully.
‘No.’
‘I could be useful.’
Wolff began to squeeze the trigger.
‘Er... before you shoot,’ the Doctor gabbled, ‘I think you ought to know that you’ll actually miss me pointing the gun there. You’d never live that down, would you, not hitting me at such close range?’ His voice was suddenly calm. ‘Aim eight inches more to the left.’
‘Thank you.’ Throughout the exchange, Wolff had kept his gun level. Now he adjusted his aim and fired at point-blank range.
* * *
Benny had forgotten what it was like being with the Doctor.
Without him you kept regular office hours, you had a lunch break, pension rights and holiday pay. With him you tended to find yourself driving at high speeds along muddy clifftop fields in unfamiliar military equipment being chased by heavily armed Nazis. Benny had forgotten how much she enjoyed it. After months of bottling up her feelings, it was so good to feel the adrenalin rush, to know that at any moment she might die in a blaze of glory, defending the universe from some unknown terror.
The terrain was rough, and she found herself being lurched from side to side. A burst of machine-gun fire peppered the rear of the armoured car. Her plan was working,