Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [61]
Well, maybe one person.
‘Creed, what a marvellous surprise this is. I mean running into you like this. What a marvellous surprise —
especially for you.’
‘You think so?’ said Creed. Mrs Woodcott had already taken his arm and was walking beside him like some doting, dotty old aunt.
A pretty stewardess walking past gave them a strange look.
‘How is Justine?’ said Mrs Woodcott.
‘Just fine. Great. She’s lovely.’
‘Is that why you winced at the mere mention of her name?’
‘I did not wince,’ said Creed. His sinuses had been blocked since landing in England, but now they cleared with anger.
‘Perhaps flinch would be a better word. Sorry if I touched a sore spot.’
‘Forget it,’ said Creed, forcing himself to relax. ‘What have you been up to all these years?’
‘Oh, you know. Making ends meet. Earning a crust.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Well, just recently,’ said Mrs Woodcott, ‘by selling old friends down the river.’
‘Down the river?’
‘It’s just an expression,’ said Mrs Woodcott as she led him over to the doorway where the two brawny security officers were waiting.
‘I can’t do this,’ said Creed.
‘You are doing it,’ said the woman in the camouflage jacket. She turned away from him and gave her full attention to the rubber seal of the roof-hatch.
‘I can’t be here,’ said Creed. He began backing away from the armoured car.
‘You are here. And you’re not going anywhere.’ The woman looked up. ‘Redmond’s inside and he’s watching you on the screen.’ She went back to working on the hatch. It had a rubber seal like a fat collar running all around the rim to cushion the metal door when it shut, and guarantee a tight seal. Or at least that was the intention.
But the once smooth rubber seal was now ragged and torn and the woman appeared to be mending it with some kind of puncture repair kit. ‘I don’t want to sound like I’m threatening you but there’s all kinds of firepower on this vehicle and Redmond has his finger on the button.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
The woman put the puncture repair kit aside. ‘Don’t try wandering off unless you want five-hundred rounds of high calibre tracers through you.’
‘Considering that’s not a threat it’s pretty effective,’ said Creed.
A voice behind him said, ‘Making friends, are we?’ Creed turned to see Mrs Woodcott standing in front of the airport building which seemed to be the headquarters for the armoured car crews.
‘Look, I don’t have time for this,’ said Creed. ‘I’m on urgent business.’
‘So was I,’ said the woman, emerging from the hatch and climbing down from the armoured car. She was black, hard-looking but quite pretty. For a moment, when he first saw her she’d reminded him of Anna, an old girlfriend of his on the police-force who had died in the line of duty. But the resemblance had been an illusion, dissipated as soon as this woman opened her mouth.
Her name was Roz. She scrambled down from the armoured car, nodded at Mrs Woodcott and then looked at Creed. ‘I was also on urgent business when they grabbed me.’
‘So was I,’ said a soft rasping voice. A man appeared in the hatch of the armoured car. ‘Hello, I’m Redmond.’
‘Hello,’ said Creed. ‘Look, if you’re in charge there’s been some mistake here.’
‘Oh, I’m not in charge. I just thought I’d come up and say hello face to face, instead of being a disembodied voice muttering the occasional comment past Roz’s bony arse in the hatch.’
‘Watch the abusive language,’ said Roz dangerously.
‘And my arse is not bony.’
‘If anyone’s in charge, it’s her,’ said Redmond, nodding at Roz. Now Creed could see why his voice had that rasping note to it. His throat was heavily bandaged.
‘But I’m involved in official security work,’ said Creed.
‘Well of course you are, dear,’ said Mrs Woodcott. ‘That’s why I nabbed you. Because you have experience with violence and mayhem, and covert operations. That’s why I apprehended all three of you.’
‘You see?’ said Redmond. ‘We are just as much the unwilling conscripts as you.’
‘When you get on board,’ said Roz, ‘we can have a nice historical discussion about press-gangs