Doctor Who_ Prime Time - Mike Tucker [12]
‘What? Commander?’
‘What the hell are you doing? You’ve let one in!’
Snatching his cap from his desk, Reg Gurney slammed open the door, unhooked his stun gun and began marching across the tarmac.
The Doctor was halfway to the main doors when he heard booted feet on the steps behind him.
‘Stop where you are, you horrible little man!’
The Doctor sighed. He had thought that getting in had been too easy.
He spun around, a beaming smile on his face.
‘Good afternoon.’
Half a dozen men in dark red uniforms lurched up the steps towards him. Leading the pack was a large man in his fifties, his thee as red as his uniform, brandishing a large unfriendly-looking gun. He towered over the Doctor.
‘What in blue blazes do you think that you are doing?’
The Doctor tried his best to look innocent.
‘Ah, there you are. I thought I’d missed you.’
‘What?’
‘I’m here to look around your studios. I understand that you do guided tours. You are a tour guide, yes?’
Gurney’s face went a shade darker. ‘Tour guide!’
The Doctor’s face fell. ‘~. I’m obviously mistaken, Mr... ?’
‘Gurney. Chief Commissionaire Gurney.’
‘I do apologise, Mr Gurney.’ He raised his hat. ‘I’m the Doctor.’
Gurney stepped closer, leaning down until his face was level with the Doctor’s.
‘You might think that you’re very clever, young fella-me-lad, and you might be able to pull the wool over the eyes of some of my more impressionable colleagues,’ He shot a filthy look at Commissionaire Briggs. ‘But I’ve dealt with your sort before and I’m not impressed.’
The Doctor stared into the bloodshot eyes. There was no way that he was going to be able to hypnotise this one. People like Gurney were always very set in their ways, and no amount of persuasion would ever get them to change. He smiled.
‘No, I can see that you’re a man of great efficiency, Mr Gurney. I must have made a mistake.’
Gurney straightened, a thin smile playing at the corners his mouth. ‘Yes, I rather think that you have.’
‘But now that I’m here, I would like to see the studio complex if at all possible. I have come rather a long way.’
Gurney smiled unpleasantly. ‘What a shame. Well, I’m afraid that isn’t possible. This is a very busy place, we haven’t got time for tours.’ He nodded at two of the guards shuffling uncomfortably in the rain.
‘Me Briggs, Me Rickett, will you escort our, visitor, back to the main gate please.’
The two guards shuffled forward. The Doctor stared up at them and sighed. ‘All right. I suppose I could phone and make an appointment to see the head of the studio?’
‘You could try, but I think it is unlikely. Mr Lukos is a very busy man.’
The Doctor raised his hat again.
‘Well, thank you for your help, Me Gurney. Good afternoon to you.’
The Doctor trotted back down the steps, dwarfed by the two security guards. Gurney watched him go, his lip curling into a snarl, then stamped back to his security booth and snapped on the communicator.
‘Mr Lukos’s office please.’
The boardroom of Channel 400 was a football-pitch sized expanse of polished wood and towering palms that looked out over the plains of Blinni-Gaar. There was a soft chime as the lift at the end of the room glided into position and the glass doors slid open.
Vogol Lukos stepped out on to the dais overlooking the room. He always liked to make an impressive entrance to board meetings, and this way he knew that all eyes were on him.
The huge conference table in the centre of the boardroom was already surrounded by the aged forms of the board of governors. Wheezing and twitching they turned one by one to look at him. Lukos sighed. A sea of grey-haired nobodies, only useful to him because of their money. He had had to get specialised life-support systems installed into the chairs of several of them. Still, once his legal terrorists had finished hacking into their wills an interesting spate of deaths could occur, and that would make fascinating viewing.
Lukos flicked his eyes across the table and scowled in irritation. Saarl’s seat was empty. The man was becoming insufferable. Lukos crossed