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'Sure,' said the man. 'Whatever you want.'

The Doctor waited by the phone box, somewhat anxiously eyeing his new friends. He still hadn't told them whom he'd phoned, or the nature of the help they were able to offer, and was unsure how they'd react when the Brigadier steamed into view. He'd suggested that they leave him, but some misguided loyalty ('Just to see you're OK, man') kept them with him.

A rusting old van, a phone box in some benighted lay-by, two charming but ultimately rather irritating hippies. The perfect tableau with which to end a frustrating couple of days, thought the Doctor rather sourly.

Sometime later a convoy of jeeps and APCs appeared.

The Brigadier stood in the front of the lead vehicle, swagger stick under his arm. Even from a distance the Doctor could see the man's moustache bristling.

The Doctor risked a sideways glance at the couple. They seemed frightened now, rabbits before headlights, considering a break for freedom but impotent before a greater power. 'There's nothing to worry about,' counselled the Doctor.

The man turned on the Doctor in a sudden rush of bravery. 'You never said you were with the pigs, man. We've only got our stash; you can't bust us for that.'

'They're soldiers,' muttered the girl in wide-eyed awe.

'Just pigs in different hats,' spat the man. He hadn't turned his gaze away from the Doctor; his anger was accusatory. 'And we tried to help you.'

'I'm really very grateful,' said the Doctor. 'All they'll be interested in is the "stars" that you saw at the concert.

Nothing else.'

' Gig, man. It wasn't a concert'

'Trust me.' The Doctor pointed out one particular figure, who seemed to share the Doctor's embarrassment at the over-the-top scenario. 'That's Captain Mike Yates. Go and see him.'

'Not a chance, man. I don't speak fascist.'

'Please,' said the Doctor. 'They can force you if you make the

The couple paused, then walked towards the captain, glancing back at the Doctor occasionally with ill-disguised contempt.

Interesting company you keep, Doctor.' said the Brigadier, staring at the night sky as intently as if it were the cricket pages of The Times. There was precious little humour in his voice.

'Whatever you're going to say, Brigadier, can't it wait until the morning?'

'No, it cannot,' replied Lethbridge-Stewart. He still couldn't bring himself to look at the Doctor, like some schoolteacher struggling to come to terms with a favourite pupil's abuse of trust 'I didn't authorise your little jaunt into London. You knew you were under strict instructions to be accompanied at all times.'

'I'm terribly sorry,' mocked the Doctor. 'I will try harder not to lose your plain-clothes chap in future.'

'Listen here, Doctor!' exploded the Brigadier. "This isn't a game, you know. Two attempted abductions in under forty-eight hours. You were lucky enough to escape from them both - but with this constant emphasis on placing yourself in danger, it wouldn't have surprised me if you'd have been in Siberia by now.'

'Now, Brigadier, the point is -'

'The point is, Doctor, that I can't afford to be without you,'

said the Brigadier levelly. 'If you're missing the next time the Autons invade or the Yeti terrorise central London, we'll be defenceless.' He nodded towards the vehicles, the soldiers spilling out on to the lay-by, the Lynx helicopter droning overhead. 'I've got good men and equipment. But any soldier is only as good as the intelligence reports he acts on. I simply can't afford to have you AWOL.'

The Doctor smiled. That was the nicest thing the Brigadier had said in weeks.

,

'Therefore.' continued the Brigadier, raising his voice a notch just as Benton strode forward, 'from now on, Doctor, everywhere you go, you will be accompanied by Captain Yates or Sergeant Benton. I can't order you to do anything, Doctor, but, by heaven, ..consider that an order. Do I make myself clear?'

'Perfectly,' said the Doctor.

Benton saluted. 'We've surveyed the area. Nothing.'