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'You've encountered no problems?'

'No, sir,' said Bruce with a grin.

'Impressions?'

'You want the good news, or the bad?'

Control breathed out slowly. 'This had better be pertinent, Tom. I've got better things to do than come to London to watch the changing of the guard'

'The pudding club is, as we suspected, run like a branch of the Junior Campers. I've yet to meet the extraterrestrial, but the trigger man, Lethbridge-Stewart, is a Bork. The rest of his staff are what you'd expect.' inbred clowns from the shires. They're a joke.'

'Sure,' said Control, annoyed that Bruce's prejudices were getting the better of him again. 'Anything else?'

'At least they're all right-minded politically. Those that have any mind to be right-minded with. And they say the scientific adviser's assistant's photograph doesn't do her justice!'

'Well,' Control continued, 'I'm not here to be your counsellor, but, where Miss Shaw is concerned, I'd stay clear if I were you' Control noticed, with not a little concern, that Bruce was wincing openly. 'We have matters of greater priority to deal with' He pointed to the still-unopened package in front of Bruce. 'Look at it.'

Bruce flipped open the envelope and examined an out-of-focus surveillance photograph.

'Comrade Valentina Shuskin,' said Control laconically.

'The Bitch Queen of Leningrad.'

'Nice,' purred Bruce.

'Don't even think about it. She'd probably eat you alive.

Fascinating background. A Little Daughter of the Revolution.

Superstar activity in Prague, until her boyfriend chose to defect. Then... Soviet UNIT.'

'What? The puddings are letting anybody join their gang these days'

'It's a free world, Tom.'

'Not if I can help it. What's the deal with the sister?'

'She's the leader of the apparatchik unit that are trying to take the Doctor out of the game.'

Bruce nodded, remembering the previous evening's meeting with Lethbridge-Stewart and Yates. 'I like these rules.

Do they want to take your ET to Mother Russia for any specific reason, or are they just planning a party with the vodka and the rebel songs?'

'You know the reason they want him.' Control paused, and drained his cup. 'Christ, but this place makes bad coffee.'

'I know,' replied Bruce, 'but the location's pleasant enough.'

'I like the idea of the Doctor being out of the main picture,' said Control. 'Perhaps the best place for him is the Soviet bloc. Our... contacts tell us that the Siberian operation is not what it seems.'

The yellow roadster pulled up with a disproportionately vulgar screech of brakes. Captain Yates immediately jumped on to the pavement and looked up and down the road, as if expecting trouble.

Liz watched from the window before moving towards the front door. Mike had clearly been in the Brigadier's company for too long. 'It's all right,' she said, pushing open the door. 'I guarantee there are no aliens in Cambridge.'

Yates turned round, almost embarrassed. 'Oh, hello. To be honest, it's not aliens I'm worried about at the moment.'

The Doctor walked up the steps towards the front door, a small case in each hand. 'Hello, Liz,' he said. 'I've missed you, you know.'

'So it seems,' said Liz. 'What on Earth is going on?' She pulled closed the door after Yates, and ushered them both into the sitting room.

The Doctor lounged in an enveloping armchair while Mike perched on the edge of a moth-eaten settee. 'Well, you see, Captain Yates has very kindly offered to look after me while I'm in Cambridge,' explained the Doctor.

There was a mocking tone to his voice which Liz recognised instantly. 'Offered?'

'Well, ordered, actually,' stated Yates. 'The Brig's idea.

Increased security.'

'I've been the subject of two kidnap attempts in as many days,' said the Doctor, seemingly with some degree of pride.

'Soviet soldiers. Probably a group of crack Spetsnaz troops'

'What can they want with you?' asked Liz.

'I'm really not sure. But they knew who I was. Maybe they want my advice for some reason.'

'Why not ask for your help?'

'Why not indeed?' The Doctor smiled.