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Major-General Hayes burst into the Command Centre, red-faced And seemingly flustered, no more than thirty seconds after the sirens had first sounded. Behind him came some twenty troops, all Armed to the teeth. Even the Brigadier thought this smacked of overkill.

Lethbridge-Stewart sat calmly, arms folded, a thin smirk on his la«. which he knew was guaranteed to irritate Hayes.

'What kept you?' he asked casually.

'I beg your pardon, Lethbridge-Stewart? Stand to attention!'

'Yes, sir,' said the Brigadier, snapping out of the chair and saluting. His eyes were fixed on Hayes, trying to determine if someone he considered a close friend was the very person who had manoeuvred him into this predicament.

'Well?' said Hayes angrily. 'I presume you have some sort of explanation for this, Brigadier?'

Some of the troops behind Hayes shifted anxiously at the mention of Lethbridge-Stewart's rank. Shooting a man who had command of thousands of men is not usually advisable, even if he is a spy.

'Security is lax,' said the Brigadier simply. 'I noticed it the last time I was here, reporting on the Stahlman fiasco.'

'What?' screamed Hayes.

The Brigadier merely blinked impassively back at him. 'A little exercise, sir. I assumed you would approve'

Hayes was almost purple now. A large vein throbbed at his temple. 'Lethbridge-Stewart,' he said through gritted teeth,

'you have not heard the last of this. You will return to your hotel, pack, and be on the next plane to London this evening.

Am I understood?'

The Brigadier nodded mutely. He had lost.

'Furthermore, I shall be making a full report of this incident to the Security Council' And it was then, as Hayes moved close to the Brigadier to issue his threat, that he slipped a piece of paper into Lethbridge-Stewart's hand. 'I don't know what game you're playing,' continued Hayes, 'but it stops here' He turned and marched out of the room, most of the troops following him. 'Make sure the Brigadier is returned whence he came,' he called over his shoulder to the remaining trio of soldiers.

Lethbridge-Stewart was led to the front of the building, placed in a staff car and driven, without any conversation, to his hotel. He was then escorted to the lift and taken to the door of his room. At this point the soldiers turned away.

'Aren't you going to make sure I leave?' asked the Brigadier.

It was the sergeant of the three who answered in a strong Texan accent. 'No, sir.'

'Why ever not?'

'Orders, sir,' replied the sergeant. 'You've got your orders, I've got mine. Sir.' He saluted and turned to leave.

Inside his room the Brigadier sat heavily on the bed and opened the piece of paper that he had been given. It was a page torn from a memo pad. There was no signature, but Lethbridge-Stewart recognised Hayes's handwriting instantly.

'You are right,' it said simply. 'We have a cuckoo in the nest who is particularly ruthless. You must be equally so. Deal with him' Beneath this there was a name, and an address, and two small doodles of a gun and a tombstone.

The meaning was clear. The Brigadier looked out across the lake at the glittering fountain, lit up like a space rocket.

Then he glanced into the corner of the room at the rifle he had assembled. Ever since his arrival he'd been hoping to avoid this, but the moment had come. For the sake of UNIT, he must take a life.

CHAPTER 12

As dawn approached Liz watched soldiers pin the alien's limbs to the forest floor. It thrashed wildly, spitting and screeching.

The Doctor approached, a look of great concentration on his face. He seemed to be muttering something under his breath. He knelt down at the creature's side, stretched out a hand, rested his fingertips on its forehead. Shuskin had the unsavoury job of holding the head in position.

The moment the Doctor touched the creature it became still, its eyes glazing over. Despite the cold, the Doctor's furrowed brow was damp with perspiration.

A moment later