Doctor Who_ Trading Futures - Lance Parkin [17]
Ah yes, the goons.
Athens was only a few hours away, which gave her a little time for some counterespionage before catching this flight. She’d doubled back, watched the goons follow Fitz and the briefcase. There had never been any doubt that they were the two men who’d chased her off the road and killed Garvin. Except, of course, that she’d shot and killed one of them, then blown the arm off the other one and watched him burn to death.
Twin brothers? It seemed unlikely. Clones? They were in their late thirties, so too old to be clones. Why copy security people, anyway, when you could hire new ones for a fraction of the cost?
They must be the same people. She must have been wrong – it had been a dark night. The first guy was wearing a vest. The larger man fell, blood sprayed from his head, he twisted slightly, looked surprised. The flames must have confused her – she saw twisted shadows, not the man himself. But the flames were only there because his gun exploded. His ray gun.
Whoever they were, wherever they’d come from, however they’d survived, they weren’t that bright. There were two of them, and both of them followed Fitz. One of them ought to have gone after Fitz, the other one should have looked for her.
If they’d been looking for her, they’d have seen her no more than fifty yards behind them at any time.
Eventually, though, she lost their trail. Annoying, but only just before she had to catch her plane to Athens. The goons weren’t on the plane, either.
Malady hoped to hell she could find the Doctor in Athens.
* * *
Anji lay back in her chair. The hologram display on her armrest told her that she was about half an hour from Athens.
It would take her half an hour to work out the interactive menu that picked her movie or choice of music. After checking the news, which was dominated by the sudden death of a young actress, Bermuda Atkins (who, of course, had still been in nappies back in Anji’s day), she decided to dial up a tourist guide to Athens instead and sip some free champagne.
Anji was enjoying herself in First Class. She’d only flown First Class once before, and that was because she’d been upgraded for being outrageously late. A business trip with the bank to Hong Kong – not that she’d had any time to take in the sights.
‘This is the way to travel,’ she concluded.
The Doctor was lying back with his eyemask on. ‘It’s not exactly the TARDIS, is it?’
Precisely, thought Anji, but knew better than to say it.
‘And the TARDIS will be safe in the long stay car park at Heathrow?’
‘Oh yes. It’s got a ticket in the window.’
Travelling with the Doctor wasn’t without its occasional discomfort or life‐threatening moment, but… well, she’d always regretted not taking a year out to go backpacking before or after university. See different places, walk paths no other Westerner had ever walked (except for the other backpackers, of course). She’d certainly done that now. Gone where no one had gone before, and all that. She enjoyed travelling with the Doctor. The way time travel worked wasn’t like being abroad: she didn’t even have to worry too much about where her friends and family thought she was, or how it all looked. Until she’d realised that, she’d felt all sorts of things – guilty she wasn’t in contact with her parents, or Dave’s parents, vaguely concerned she ought to be at work, and that she’d be completely out of touch if she ever got back. It had even occurred to her that the police might think she’d been murdered – or had murdered Dave and gone on the run.
But none of that mattered – that would all sort itself out, the Doctor had assured her of that. She could sit back and enjoy