Doctor Who_ Longest Day - Michael Collier [65]
The men turned away from him and back to the guard. They began hitting him, savagely. Then one of them picked up the guard's gun and shot him with it.
At least they were firing it at the K'Arme, thought Felbaac. "That's right!
Well done!'he cried.
But the men were running back at a fast limp in the direction of the camp, led by the man holding the gun, who was firing it wildly."That's right!'
bellowed Felbaac.'Let's take the fight to them . But the men were out of earshot. 'Wait for me!' he muttered, steeling himself for the run back. He had to protect this bunch. They'd have to confirm his bravery to the others.
***
Sangton was cowering on the back seat of one of the land transports. The one guard left was driving. One guard. Traxes was dead, and most of his general guards had followed him that way. Fettal was still unconscious in the dust. He hadn't had the time or the strength to get her aboard and frankly he didn't fancy her chances with two hundred maimed men -put in their condition by her trigger finger - milling about.
His counterattack had begun quite well, but the sheer weight of numbers against them had forced retreat. He'd pushed the prisoners too far, from fear into anger. It was a fine line, and being an old man losing his judgement, he had crossed it. Now, this was a mess.
He had to get away, never mind the information Felbaac had over him, never mind the information that could surely bring a vital part of the rebellion to heel. The coup of Felbaac's execution could perhaps offset the misdemeanours of the past. But how could he explain this expedition at all?
It really was a mess, but staying alive was the imperative now.
If there wasn't anyone in his flight crew left alive, well then, he had one man. He'd help to fly the ship himself if he had to. And then he'd rake the whole settlement with enough blaster fire to destroy a city.
His final mission, and there he was: an old man taking back his youth, the hands-on approach, hands steeped in rebel blood till the end. Until the end of public service, anyway.
He permitted a tiny smile to flicker across his face, thin lips stretched tight.
'Faster, man. Do you want them to catch us and kill us both?'
The vehicle was already going flat out, but just giving the order made him feel better. They would reach the ship way ahead of the rebels. The sound of the commotion was ebbing away. He snorted at the thought of the whole ill-disciplined mass, fighting and bickering among themselves. But that had typified rebels from time immemorial. No order.
As the vehicle sped away from the outer boundary of the penal settlement, Sangton slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and looked back. The settlement seemed quiet, at peace, as if nothing had happened.
He thought of Fettal again, and the ghost of a smile played about his lips once more.
***
Tanhith coughed violently, the noise thick and hacking. It seemed to stir him into consciousness, and Sam took the opportunity to roll him off her with one almighty heave, hoping that the distraction would surprise whoever was around her long enough for her to decide what to do next. To run away bloody quickly sounded like a good idea.
But as she heaved him off, the deep gasp of profound pain that came from Tanhith made her turn back instantly to look at him. His body rolled over in the dirt, and as he landed back on his front, she saw the gaping wound in his lower back, his tunic covered with mud and blood. She held a hand up to her mouth, afraid she would be sick.'No!' she bawled at him.
'Yes,' came a smug voice behind her. Turning slowly, she saw Fettal pointing a gun at her, the silky threads over her eyes doing little to disguise the hatred burning within. 'And now it's your turn.'
***
The Doctor rifled through cabinets full of disks and datacubes.'Why is nothing written down on paper any more?' he cried with theatrical anguish, before kicking a swivel chair