Doctor Who_ War Games - Malcolm Hulke [26]
‘That’s fascinating,’ said the Doctor. ‘I must congratulate you. I hope our little chat will be useful for both of us. I will now return to my place.’
With a smile the Doctor made his way back through the group to Zoe. As he refound his place a loud ping sounded from wall loudspeakers. Everyone present became alert.
‘What is it?’ Zoe asked.
Before the Doctor could answer, the double doors had been opened. The War Chief stepped in, guards on either side.
‘Was the experiment successful?’ he asked the scientist.
‘Partially, sir.’
‘Only partially?’ The War Chief walked up to the processing machine.
‘I think we have found the cause, sir.’ The scientist treated the War Chief with great respect and was clearly frightened of him. ‘As a matter of fact, one of the students has been of great help to me. Perhaps he should be transferred to the scientific team.’
‘Really? And which one was that?’ The War Chief ran his eyes over the group.
The scientist pointed. ‘Over there, sir.’
The War Chief’s eyes came to rest on the Doctor. Zoe thought she detected a moment of mutual recognition between the Doctor and the War Chief, as though they had once known each other.
‘Zoe,’ the Doctor breathed urgently. ‘Run—and don’t stop!’
Obediently Zoe got up, turned and ran, the Doctor behind her.
The War Chief called to his guards, ‘Fire!’
The zing of stun-guns rang out. A Samurai knight of ancient Japan was accidentally hit and crashed to the floor.
The Doctor jumped over him. As Zoe reached the double doors she paused, looking to the Doctor to be told which way.
The Doctor called, ‘Just keep going!’
Outside in the corridor a queue of officers from all times in history was waiting to go in for the nextlecture. They surged forward to see what was happening. The Doctor dodged around them to make his escape and to use them as a shield against the guards. As he ran, from the corner of his eye he saw Zoe grabbed and held down.
Lady Jennifer and Jamie lay in the straw, wrists and ankles securely bound.
‘You’re being used,’ Jamie shouted at the Confederate soldiers. ‘Your officer isn’t even an American, he’s a German.’
Von Weich’s thin lips gave the hint of a smile. ‘When you talk nonsense like that, they can’t even hear you.’ He turned to the soldiers, his voice changing instantly to a lazy Southern drawl. ‘Corporal Thomson and Private Travers to stay guarding the prisoners. The rest of you, come with me.’
Even the young soldier Lady Jennifer had tended struggled to his feet.
‘That man is wounded,’ she protested.
‘If he is alive,’ said von Weich, ‘he can fight. I’ll settle with you two later.’ He led the exhausted men out of the barn.
Corporal Thomson and Private Travers settled down to a game of cards. While Thomson dealt, Travers turned to Jamie.
‘You know what we do to Yankee spies? We hang them from the branch of a little old tree!’ He guffawed at the fun of that.
‘I assure you we are not Yankees,’ Lady Jennifer insisted. ‘I’m from England.’
‘You hear that?’ Travers said to his companion. ‘The lady says she’s from New England. That’s up in the North, ain’t it?’
Lady Jennifer became indignant. ‘Why are you being so stupid—’
Her voice was stilled by a hand that came over her mouth. Very close to her ear a man whispered, ‘Not a sound, lady, not a sound.’
Jamie turned to see a Negro in the uniform of the Union Army who had crept towards them through the straw.
Using a sharp knife he was cutting through Lady Jennifer’s bonds.
‘The New England lady’s gone quiet all of a sudden,’
said Private Travers. ‘Somethin’ botherin’ you, ma’am?
Like the prospect of gettin’ yo’self hanged from a little of tree?’ He laughed again, but the laugh died on his face.
Standing in the doorway were three soldiers aiming an assortment of guns at the two Confederates. Two of the soldiers wore the uniform of the British army during the Boer War in 1899; the third was a German private from 1914. One of the Boer War soldiers, a sergeant, stepped forward.
‘We’re not going to kill you,’ he said. ‘But we may set you free.’
The two