Doctor Who_ Transit - Ben Aaronovitch [57]
Prancine realised that her organization had become too diffused, too legitimate to be effective. So far its actions had stayed well within tolerated business practice. Locked in the blindness of her own skull she called herself soft.
Subtlety wasn't working. It was time to see the Brigadier.
Francine flew to Africa in a variable-geometry ground-attack fighter. The jet was factory fresh from China, a wasteful extravagance bought especially for this trip. Structured hydrocarbons exploded around turbine blades that spun on shafts lubricated with liquid Teflon. Francine left a white contrail across the sky over the Saharan national park. The GEPA pollution permits cost far more than the avionics and the avionics had cost a great deal indeed.
It was the rainy season in West Africa; Navsat put the cloud base at one thousand metres, electrical storms likely. The avionics hardware in Francine's brain didn't output to her ruined optic nerve; she just knew the jet's position, engine status and altitude the same way she knew she was breathing.
She put the jet down within a hundred metres of the Makeni beacon, Navsat's best guess option on the Brigadier's house. Once down she popped the cockpit and waited for someone to ask her what the hell she was doing.
Water trickled into her lap; she assumed it was rain running off the front of the open canopy. She could hear it hissing off the green things all around, hi the distance there was music
She didn't have to wait long.
The airframe rocked as someone climbed on to the wing.
'Are you all right?' Young voice, a boy.
'Do you know the Lethbridge-Stewarts?'
'Sure,' said the boy, 'they live over there.'
'Go get him for me, will you? Tell him Prancine's back and she needs his help.'
The plane rocked once more as the boy jumped to the ground. She heard bare feet pattering away.
Again, thought Francine.
The Stop
The little man's face was creased with pain. At first Blondie assumed he'd caught the full glare of the stun grenade, but the little man's eyes shifted to watch Old Sam as he clanked in. His expression changed from pain to a bland cheeriness faster than a video frame update.
'Hallo,' said the man. 'I'm the Doctor and that was my friend Benny.'
'That's your friend?' said a voice from the back of the cavern.
Old Sam's gun jerked around insect-fast, trying to locate the source of the voice. Kadiatu stood up from behind a table. She was still wearing Blondie's T-shirt. 'That's who we came here to rescue?'
Something was wrong with Blondie's helmet. The target icon stubbornly refused to track Kadiatu when she moved. An ECM warning marker kept flashing in his right peripheral vision.
'She is in fact a very nice person,' said the Doctor. 'At least when she's herself. Did you see where she went?'
'She went right past me,' said Kadiatu, 'and down a bolthole in the comer over there.' She advanced cautiously to the Doctor's side, keeping her eyes on Blondie and Old Sam. 'Do we go after her?'
'No,' said the Doctor. 'Not just yet.'
'I'm glad you said that.'
'Stay here,' said Old Sam's voice over the comnet and he shot off towards the comer. Kadiatu flinched back as he speeded past.
'Did you arrange this?' she asked the Doctor.
'No, but you must admit it is convenient.'
'Very.'
'There's a straight tunnel heading southwest. I'm doing a reconnaissance now.'
'Are you going to talk to us?' Kadiatu asked Blondie, 'or just stand there doing robot impressions?'
'It's me,' said Blondie unsealing his visor.
'Doctor, this is Blondie,' said Kadiatu. 'Blondie, this is the Doctor.'
'Doctor of what?'
'Don't ask,' said