Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [50]
Roz stepped over to the console. The hundreds of readouts and indicators dotted around the half-dozen control panels flashed away to themselves, marking time. The crystalline column in the centre of the console was glowing.
Strange patterns twinkled within it, and Forrester gazed into it, momentarily hypnotized. She broke off, and looked around for any sign that the Doctor had returned. His hat, jacket and umbrella were all missing from the hatstand. There didn’t seem to be a note pinned up anywhere in the room. There wasn’t a voice or text message left on the computer. Roz was heading towards the circular archway that led to the rest of the ship before the practical difficulties of exploring a semi-infinite space dawned on her. Besides, she had other things to do here, and had to be back at the SID for nine.
So, the Doctor hadn’t been here yesterday and he hadn’t waited around for her. That was one less thing to be guilty about, anyway. He was quite capable of looking after himself, wherever he was. Forrester wasn’t so sure she could say that about Chris.
The Doctor sipped at his lemonade as the Mercedes limousine swept through the Brittany countryside. Steinmann was not travelling with him, and his driver was not a skilled conversationalist. The Doctor had little to do but sit back in his leather seat, drink his lemonade, and watch the scenery roll past. There was little sign here that there was a war on.
The car passed the occasional German motorcycle patrol, but apart from that the fields and little farms looked much as they had done for centuries. The road here was little more than a dirt track. Odd that: the Germans tended to improve the roads leading to their bases. Perhaps they hadn’t got around to it here yet. Perhaps they were taking him into the woods to be shot. The Doctor chuckled to himself. Well, they could try. The Doctor decided to occupy himself with a game of I-Spy. I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with
‘W’.
‘Woods,’ he replied, pointing out the small copse to himself. The driver glanced in his rear-view mirror and the Doctor raised his hat in greeting. He wished that he knew where his umbrella had got to. He hoped it wasn’t still lying alone on the beach at St Jaonnet. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘F’.
‘Field,’ he answered himself.
‘R,’ offered the driver.
‘Pardon?’
‘I spy something beginning with “R”,’ the driver admitted sheepishly.
‘You play this game too?’ The Doctor was impressed.
‘I play this game with my children.’
‘Ah...’
‘That’s right, “R”.’
‘Does it begin with “R” in German or English?’
The driver grinned. ‘Both.’
The Doctor looked around. The driver had glanced to his left, into that cornfield where a flock of coal-black birds hovered.
‘ Rabe,’ the Doctor concluded.
‘Well done, Herr Doktor. I gave you too much of a clue, I think. Your turn.’
‘I spy with my little eye, something beginning with “C”.’
Chris watched the limousine hurtle past, catching a glimpse of the passenger in the back seat. No, it couldn’t be...
‘Where the hell were you?’
‘Language, Lieutenant Reed, there’s a lady present. Not only that, she outranks you.’ Forrester was infuriatingly calm, and she wasn’t even slightly defensive.
‘Ma’am, do you have the photographs?’
‘They are back in the safe.’ George sighed with relief, but Forrester continued, ‘I made copies.’
‘Copies? Roz, Kendrick will have us shot! That isn’t a figure of speech.’ Watching Forrester now, though, Reed realized that he trusted her. Roz sensed this, and smiled reassuringly.
‘Invite me out for lunch, George.’
‘You’re invited. We’ll go to the Salted Almond on Piccadilly. I was going to ask you this morning, but you weren’t there. What on