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'The results of the report, sir,' said Corporal Bell, coming into the office with a grave look on her face.

'Give me the edited highlights, Carol,' said Mike, reaching out for the file.

'Inconclusive,' she said with an embarrassed sigh.

'Meaning... ?'

'The technology is basic. It could have been made by anyone. But there was a UNIT serial code on the timing mechanism. It seems to be Russian in origin.'

Yates sat bolt upright. 'I see,' he said quickly.

'But that's all, sir. There's nothing else to tie it to anyone in particular. I don't think we should jump to too many conclusions, just yet.'

'Thanks for the advice,' said Yates, somewhat dismissively. 'Anything else?'

'Yes,' replied Bell. 'The Brigadier made contact whilst you were in conference with the police. He's staying at the Hotel Europa in Geneva. I have his number if you want me to raise him for you.'

Yates nodded. 'Yes, I think I'd better have a word, don't you?'

'We're under attack!' yelled Shuskin as the helicopter pitched violently.

Liz glanced round to see the Doctor, his face pressed against the glass of one of the tiny windows, legs braced against the motion of the helicopter. She ran to his side, clinging on to a rail overhead. 'What's happening?'

'Alien creatures,' said the Doctor. 'Firing some sort of heat or directed-energy weapon.' He turned to Liz 'No wonder the planes couldn't cope with them. How can you be expected to attack a target the size of a child in a jet travelling at Mach three point two?'

'So the helicopters are holding out against the aliens?'

queried Liz.

The Doctor's face was downcast. 'I wouldn't really put it like that, I'm afraid.'

The Mi-6 lurched again, struggling to evade its pursuers.

'There must be something you can do,' said Liz. Even the Soviet soldiers were staring at the Doctor, as if they realised his key role in all that was taking place.

'Well,' said the Doctor. 'First things first.' we need to be able to protect ourselves from those heat weapons.' He turned to Shuskin. 'I must get to the helicopter's electrics -

some sort of junction box that's accessible internally.'

Captain Shuskin paused in thought, and then led the way to a point just behind the cockpit. Thick cables ran into what reminded Liz of a domestic fuse box. The Doctor smiled delightedly, and ripped off the metal cover.

Shuskin went to say something, but Liz stopped her.

'Yes, he knows it's live. And, no, he doesn't really know what he's doing.'

The Doctor spoke 'Yes, through gritted teeth, tugging against an inch-thick wire. 'I think you've been working with me for too long,' he said.

The helicopter pitched again, and Liz could see dark shapes flitting by the windows.

The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket, and aimed the point at the cable. With a shrill noise it began to melt the plastic covering. Moments later the Doctor twisted the screwdriver around and unceremoniously shoved the blunt end into the revealed bare wires.

There was a loud crack that reminded Liz of ice breaking on a pond, and the interior lights flickered for a moment. 'Are you OK?' she asked.

'I'm fine, Liz,' said the Doctor. 'Now what I need is a small piece of metal, about an Inch or two in length. A hairclip or some such.'

Liz and Shuskin exchanged glances, shrugging their shoulders. 'Not sure we can help there, Doctor,' said Liz.

'What? You're both women aren't you...? There must be something,' said the Doctor, looking around the helicopter's interior. Was it Liz's imagination, or was the temperature already beginning to rise?

One of the soldiers came running forward with a thick pin used to secure an ammunition box. 'Perfect,' enthused the Doctor. Gingerly he used the piece of metal to establish a connection between the helicopter's hull and the sonic screwdriver. 'Make sure that nobody touches the hull from now on,' snapped the Doctor. He waited for Shuskin to bark out an order, then he twisted a dial high up on the screwdriver. It began to flicker, Liz catching glimpses of the interior mechanism through