Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [86]
but will you marry me? Not for anyone else’s sake. Just for ours.’
And to his intense relief, she broke into a wide smile.
‘One thousand, four hundred and fifty dead. The figure would have been a great deal higher without your help.’
‘I doubt it,’ the Doctor said. He was distracted by the piece of paper Steinmann had handed him. He passed it on to Chris, who saw that it was a preliminary report listing the names of German officers who had died. Over thirty in total.
Hartung wasn’t on the list. Did he count as a civilian? Was he a casualty? Had he even been here? There was no mention of the Gerards. Chris had already realized that he couldn’t ask Steinmann directly about Monsieur Gerard and Monique without implicating them.
‘The town wasn’t prepared. We’ve learnt our lesson the hard way.’
They were sitting on what had once been a pavement, outside what had once been a café. They drank coffee wearing tin hats, surrounded by ruined shops, schools and churches. They rested their cups on a makeshift ‘table’, the Doctor’s briefcase resting on a tripod of breeze blocks. It was nearly dusk, now. The rescue teams had unearthed all the survivors and cleared the cellars of roasted corpses. Now the team members, men and women, army and civilians, sat in the pale early evening sun, eating their dinner. Everything was covered in a thin powder of grey dust — concrete dust, probably. Steinmann seemed ten years older than when they had first met. He looked like a tired old man.
‘Why?’ Steinmann asked, gesturing around.
‘To end the war,’ the Doctor said simply. ‘They are fighting for peace. Murdering and destroying to protect their most deeply held principles. Spending every penny on bombs and bullets so that their people can be prosperous. Like your people.’
Steinmann sipped at his coffee. ‘My people don’t...’ he began, but couldn’t finish the sentence. His eyes were watering. ‘We are fighting for what we believe in,’ he concluded finally.
‘Yes. So are the British and so am I. If you fight, though, people get hurt. People die.’
‘Hartung’s discoveries will minimize casualties. What he has built is so terrifying that it will end war for ever,’ the German officer stated. The Doctor snorted derisively.
‘Herr Steinmann,’ began Chris gently, ‘you fought in the last war. You rose through the ranks from a conscripted private, ending up as a Leutnant. An impressive achievement by any standard. Do you know what the British called that war?’
‘“The War to End All Wars”,’ Steinmann noted. The Doctor was nodding approvingly.
‘The English thought that their Civil War was the same, that the Napoleonic War had settled things once and for all.
Bismarck felt that there would never be a European war again. So did Chamberlain. No matter how terrible the weapon, it will be used, no matter how terrible the consequences will be, wars start,’ the little man said.
‘This is different. One demonstration is all that is needed.
Once the British have seen our capability, they will surrender.’ Steinmann glanced at his watch. ‘There is only one way to convince you Doctor, and that is to show you. We shall leave at once.’
Steinmann stood. Chris looked at the Doctor, who was picking up his briefcase.
Wolff sat silently, handcuffed to the chair, head down.
Roz watched him from the darkened room behind the concealed mirror. Kendrick stood to one side of her, concentrating on his captive’s expression. George Reed, her... whatever the word was for possible fiancé, had just entered the room, carrying a file. She was surprised how much she’d missed him. They’d bought an engagement ring on the way back to his flat, on the strict understanding that she hadn’t accepted yet. Roz had tried it on in the shop, and held the emerald up to the light. The little Jewish goldsmith had smiled a knowing smile. Reed had bought the ring, and Roz chose to wear it on the way home, to see if it suited her.
She was still wearing it.
It’s definitely him?’ Kendrick asked.
Reed held out a photograph from the file. ‘It’s him.’
Roz only needed to glance at the picture for