Doctor Who_ Last of the Gaderene - Mark Gatiss [30]
Jo poked her head around the door of Whistler’s cottage and glanced at Mrs Toovey. ‘What’s that?’
A group of half a dozen black-uniformed men came smartly round the corner, moving in a tight unit like a knot of glistening flies.
Jo looked at the Doctor who was frowning heavily.
Completely ignoring both the Doctor and Darnell, the troops came to a halt on the village green, not far from the churned-up grass. Darnell regarded them intently and a pained look crept over his face.
The lead trooper withdrew a small black box from his jacket and laid it on the grass. The Doctor could see some kind of dial and a needle which swung sharply to the right. At once, another of the men began to dig at the green with a small spade.
Darnell gasped. ‘Excuse me, but would you mind explaining what you’re doing?’
The trooper, who wore the uniform of a captain, ignored him and picked up the box, replacing it in his jacket. The vicar persisted.
‘This village has won prizes. I really don’t think it’s right for you to dig up the green. Those lorries of yours have done quite enough damage as it is.’
He cleared his throat and shuffled awkwardly. ‘Do you hear me?’
The Captain scowled at Darnell and jerked his head his direction. At once, two of the troops marched over to the bench and tried to drag the vicar away. He protested loudly and one of the man clamped a black-gloved hand over his mouth.
‘You sir!’ bellowed the Doctor. ‘Do you mind explaining what you think you’re doing?’
The trooper let his hand fall to his side. He looked to his Captain, who switched on a charming smile. ‘It’s for the gentleman’s own good. He needs... looking after.’
The Doctor put his hands on his hips. ‘I think he should be the judge of that, don’t you?’
The Captain’s grin broadened and, for the first time, the Doctor noticed the little clumps of saliva which clung like cuckoo-spit to his lips.
At a slight inclination of the Captain’s head, his men released Darnell who slumped back on to the bench, his eyes flickering wildly from side to side.
The Doctor regarded the newcomers steadily. ‘Legion International, I presume?’
The Captain nodded. ‘I’m Captain McGarrigle,’ he said, curtly. ‘Aren’t you from Culverton?’
‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’m not... local.’
The Captain looked about a little shiftily, taking in Bessie and then Jo and Mrs Toovey who were still standing in the porch. ‘Well, it’s good that you’re here. We have plans for this village. Great plans.’
‘Do you indeed?’ The Doctor glanced down at the muddy tyre tracks on the green. ‘May I ask what you were doing just now?’
The Captain’s face assumed an innocent expression.
The Doctor pointed to the man’s black uniform. ‘That little box. Some kind of Geiger counter?’
The Captain laughed and a tiny fleck of saliva fell on to his freshly pressed jacket. ‘Nothing like that. We had an accident. I was just checking that none of our... cargo was missing.’
The Doctor looked over at the remaining five troopers, standing in a line, still and impassive, like automata waiting to be wound up.
‘And what is your cargo?’
The Captain’s dark eyes glittered. ‘Well, actually, we’re more of a passenger service.’
The Doctor smiled. ‘Is that so?’
There was a tiny flicker in the Captain’s eyes. ‘I simply mean that we’re rebuilding the old aerodrome and converting it into a working airport. We use some things in our work which are rather dangerous. Chemicals and such. You understand.’
The Doctor bent down on one knee and fingered some of the soil. ‘Well, I’m quite experienced in chemical analysis. If you like I could...’
The Captain’s face was impassive. ‘No. It’s all right. My men will see to it.’
Without him giving an instruction, two of the troopers swung round to face the Doctor. He got slowly to his feet.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘Yes, I see.’
The Captain touched the brim of his peaked cap. ‘Good evening.’
The Doctor didn’t move. ‘Perhaps we could come up to the aerodrome tomorrow and have a look around? I’m sure it’s fascinating.’
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