Doctor Who_ Left-Handed Hummingbird - Kate Orman [74]
Benny waited until the motorway was quiet. She drove the car across the gravel edge and between a pair of trees. The wheels left a conspicuous trail in the snow, but it couldn’t be helped. Besides, Ace wouldn’t be long.
‘Okay?’ she asked Ace.
‘All right. Be cool.’
‘I’ll leave the heater off,’ joked Benny feebly, turning off the engine with a violent twist of the keys. She was angry about having to stay behind, of course. Despite her connections, Ace had only been able to swing a pass for herself. And that wasn’t all there was to be angry about.
The mercenary climbed out of the car, boots crunching in the gravel as she made her way down to the house. It was dead quiet, not even any birds singing. They were smack in the middle of nowhere. It had taken Ace two weeks to get the address of the place, let alone official permission to visit. Then again, her business wasn’t entirely official. As Lieutenant Macbeth was going to discover, to his regret.
The iron gate was high and locked. She pressed the buzzer a few times and then waited, hands in the pockets of her anorak. After a while a uniformed soldier appeared, UNIT badge clipped to his beret. She handed him the pass through the bars.
She could see his little booth inside the gate, a cup of cocoa steaming on the table next to the phone. If he called for advice she might be in trouble, but he didn’t. There was a motor hum and the gate slid slowly aside. ‘Just knock at the front door, ma’am,’ he said, pointing across the gravel driveway to the house. She smiled and took the pass back.
She’d spent whole days on the phone, trying to get that little bit of paper. Lethbridge‐Stewart was always away somewhere, and besides, they hadn’t yet met; no one had heard of her. Even the Doctor was a new and little‐known entity as far as UNIT was concerned.
She’d changed tactics, called the RAF. Air Commodore Gilmore had retired. She spent another day with the phone book, trying to track him down. At least he remembered her – gave him a good fright, when he’d recognized her voice. He had no official standing, of course, but could he put her in touch with the Brigadier?
She pulled back the great brass loop of the knocker and let it fall against the door. It opened instantly. ‘Ma’am,’ said another soldier. He led her in through the wire frame of a metal detector and into the foyer. It smelled of must and wood polish.
‘I’m here to speak to Lieutenant Macbeth.’ She proffered the pass. The soldier glanced at it and handed it back. Like magic, Alistair, like magic.
‘Right you are. Up the stairs, first door on the left. There’s a sign.’
‘Cheers.’
Easy so far. Her heart pounded, a healthy pounding, ready for action.
She resisted the urge to kick in Macbeth’s door.
She knocked, counted to three, and went inside, shutting the door behind her.
He was at his desk, staring into space, a copy of Monsters from Outer Space clutched in one hand. When he looked up and saw her, he double‐took, dropped the paperback and started to open his mouth to shout.
Ace whipped the pistol out of her pocket. It was livid purple, with a series of red coils at the front and a single green fin on top. It looked lethal. ‘You know I’m from the future, right? So if you don’t want to be reduced to your constituent quarks, just shut up.’
Macbeth closed his mouth.
‘Got some news for you,’ she said. ‘Brigadier Lethbridge‐Stewart is on his way back from Switzerland to inspect this place. I’m here to collect the Doctor.’
The redhead’s eyes were fixed on the Flash Gordon pistol. ‘Does the Brigadier know about this?’
‘No. I really, really hate red tape. So I’m going to put the weapon back in my pocket, and I’m going to keep it aimed at you while we go see the Doctor.’
‘There’s no need for this, eh, is there?’ protested the Scot. ‘The Doctor’s in our care, and you’re welcome to visit.’
‘A bit tricky for visitors if you don’t tell anyone where you actually are. If you’ve done anything to him that I don’t like –’
‘No, no.’ Macbeth raised his hand.