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By Root 667 0

there are Mi-8s, general utility helicopters' Liz noted that most had external pylons fitted, bristling with rockets and gun pods. 'Now, here's the really interesting thing' He pointed to a pair of helicopters towards the rear of the airfield. They were the smallest of all, almost insignificant as they faced her on the tarmac, were it not for their menacing crouch and their weapon-loaded stub wings almost as wide as the motionless rotors. 'Very early examples of the Mil Mi-24, the first true Soviet helicopter gunship, if I'm not mistaken. I wasn't aware any had been built yet. You can clearly see, however, the debts owed to the Mi-8 and -'

'I'm really sorry, Doctor,' said Liz. 'I never got round to finishing

Jane's Book of Helicopters.'

Despite Liz's interruption, Shuskin appeared pleased with the Doctor's knowledge. 'I am glad you feel privileged. No other Westerner has been permitted to see the prototypes'

Liz noted an expression of sadness flicker across the Doctor's face as the blades on the two gunships began to rotate. 'Terrifying, isn't it?' he said. 'Mankind can make even an instrument of death and destruction almost beautiful.'

CHAPTER 9

The Mi-24 helicopter gunships rose from the tarmac, then twisted across the runways like a pair of dragonflies over still water. The dark nose cannons twitched inquisitively in the cold evening sky.

The larger Mi-8s followed, adopting a diamond formation against the clouds. By the time the enormous and bulbous Mi-6s had pulled themselves cautiously away from the runways and surrounding fields the air was heavy with the pulsating cadence of numerous rotor blades. A trio of MiG-25s roared overhead from a neighbouring air base, angular silver arrows that faded swiftly and noisily from view.

The pub was called the Rat and Parrot, a lovely old rustic Tudor building with thick oak beams and real ale. Yates and Benton introduced themselves to the landlord, this time using no aliases, and found the man to be quite chatty and open.

He gave them a first-hand report about what he believed to have been a comet crashing into the sea on Thursday night.

'I suppose.' said Yates as they sat down with pints of foaming beer, 'a comet is the most likely explanation.'

'Sounds reasonable,' noted Benton.

'Except that everything that Arlo character said had a ring of truth about it.'

'Surely not, sir? He was just a freak. Too many drugs and not enough baths, I'd have thought'

'Maybe,' said Yates, sounding unconvinced.

'Mind you, I did think there was something odd about him' 'Odd?'

'Dangerous. I can't place it exactly, but I'm pretty sure I've seen him somewhere before...' Benton's voice trailed away as his attention was drawn to the television set on the bar, and a football game in progress. 'See the World Cup highlights last night, sir?' he asked.

'What? Oh yes. Very good goal that Brazilian chap scored,' said Yates absentmindedly.

'True,' noted Benton, 'But the defending was shocking.

Now if that had been in England, the centre-half would have clattered him into the tenth row of the stand. Let's see him try and score from there! That's the trouble with your average Johnny Foreigner.' give them a slap and they don't want to know...'Again Benton's concentration gave out on him and he stared intently at his beer.

'What's the matter?' asked Yates.

'It's... annoying.' said Benton, 'I know I've seen that Arlo bloke before, but I'm blowed if I can remember where.'

Yates stood and drained his glass. 'Come on, John,' he said. 'We'd better get back to HQ and get in a report about all this jiggery-pokery. Though what the Brigadier'll make of it, I shudder to think.'

The Doctor stared out of the side portals of the helicopter, a childlike excitement marbling his evident anxiety. The din inside their Mi-6 was such that Liz had spent almost the entire take-off with her hands over her ears. The Soviet soldiers, sitting impassively on benches, seemed less concerned.

The Doctor turned away from the window. There was little to see now, and their target - the alien mining complex, or