Doctor Who_ War Games - Malcolm Hulke [49]
Villar looked down at the stun-gun pointing at his side.
‘What can I do? I am defenceless.’ He sat down.
The Doctor attached the helmet and made the necessary adjustments. Then he turned on the machine. It hummed loudly for ten seconds. He turned the control to ‘off’.
‘There,’ he said. ‘You are in La Castille de la Cruz de San Antonio, in Mexico.’
Villar looked round. ‘Are you crazy? I am here in this room with all these people you make into imbeciles.’ He rose up. ‘Your machine is no good. Arturo Villar is too strong for you!’
He made a mighty lunge at the Doctor, hands open to take the Doctor’s throat. The two guards left by the War Chief rushed forwards to grab Villar, turning their backs on the resistance leaders. It was the moment they had been waiting for.
‘Now!’ shouted Lieutenant Carstairs.
The group moved as one man to overpower the guards.
They had no time to turn their stun-guns onto their attackers. The guards fell under a hail of blows from all sides. Ignoring what was happening, the single-minded Villar had the Doctor by the throat and was trying to strangle him.
‘Help,’ screamed the Doctor, trying to make his voice heard over the hubbub.
Jamie and Sergeant Russell pounced on Villar’s back, dragging him from the Doctor.
‘You great loon,’ said Jamie. ‘Couldn’t you pretend like the rest of us?’
Villar looked around and then down at the fallen security guards. ‘Is all a trick? The Doctor fix the machine so she doesn’t work?’
‘Yes,’ said the Doctor, trying to get his breath. ‘I fix the machine.’
Zoe had gone to the door to look out. She signalled frantically to the group. ‘That War Chief and two guards are coming!’
‘Everybody back as they were,’ said Carstairs. To Villar and Sergeant Russell he added, ‘Except you two. Cover the door.’
All the resistance leaders, with Jamie and Zoe, lined up as they had been before, affecting the vacant expressions of processed human specimens. The doctor returned to the machine and pretended to be concentrating on making a minor adjustment.
The door opened and the War Chief was pushed inside.
One of the two guards stepped forward.
‘You,’ he said to the Doctor, ‘come with us.’
Villar and Sergeant Russell struck simultaneously, felling the two guards with blows to the back of the neck.
The War Chief looked round, startled.
‘Don’t harm him,’ said the Doctor. ‘I think we may need him.’
‘More we need our guns,’ said Villar. He turned on the War Chief, gripping him by the throat. ‘I strangle him, he tell us where our guns are!’
‘For goodness’ sake,’ said Lieutenant Carstairs, ‘do stop throttling people, old man. Will you say where our guns are hidden?’
The War Chief, his face going blue, nodded. Villar let go of his throat.
‘And will you help us gain control of the war room?’ the Doctor asked.
The War Chief gingerly fingered his neck where Villar had half strangled him. ‘That may not be easy. Our arrangement was discovered. I came here under arrest.
However, the technician in the sidrat landing bay doesn’t know that. I could stop the arrival of the sidrats bringing back the guards you so cunningly drew out to the time zones.’
‘Good,’ said the Doctor. ‘But first, before all else, you must come with us to the war room to stop the war games.
This frightful slaughter must cease immediately.’
‘First,’ Villar insisted, ‘we get back our guns—no?’
‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘I mean, yes. Come along,’
The Security Chief stood at the communications console speaking into a microphone. ‘This is the Security Chief.
The resistance forces, now leaderless, concentrated in the 1862 time zone, will be dealt with by armies of human specimens. Meanwhile, all security guards are to proceed to the nearest control point—’
He heard the grunt of a guard knocked out by Sergeant Russell and wheeled around. He was looking straight into the barrels of Villar’s two six-shooters.
‘Guards!’ he screamed. ‘Emergency alarm!’
The technician at the