Doctor Who_ Battlefield Part 11

The Brigadier flicked through information on the screen of his portable operations desk. 'Any word from Major Husak yet?'

Lavel shook her head. 'No, sir. And London says that the area of radio interference is expanding. No contact now for thirteen hours. And with that second storm last night...'

'Yes, quite. We'll try raising them when we get closer.

Do you speak Czech?'

She grinned. 'Only when I'm drunk, sir.'

He smiled and scrolled the information. The latest jargon took some getting used to. 'The Brigadier who's baby-sitting the missile. Bambera?'

'Yes, sir. Bambera.'

'Hmm... sounds African. Good man, is he?'

Lavel bit her tongue.

From the wooded hill over the village, the Doctor saw a squad of UNIT jeeps heading towards the lake.

He had been reading his copy of Malory by the first pale light of the morning, until the dawn chorus made it impossible to concentrate.

Through the garden, he followed a trail of broken furniture. Piece by piece, he picked up Ancelyn's sword, Bambera's automatic and her beret. He was grateful to see that Ace had retrieved the sack of nitro-nine that she a.s.sumed he knew nothing about.

In the darkened bar, he found Ancelyn still handcuffed and asleep on one of the wallseats. Beside him, Bambera had finally succ.u.mbed to sleep as well. Her head was resting on his shoulder. Again, the Doctor recalled that Winifred was a variation of Guenever, and doubtless Ancelyn was a direct descendant of Lancelot du Lac. He had just been reading of all the trouble that liaison had caused. Perhaps Arthur had needed all the help he could get.

The Doctor picked up one of Ace's discarded crisp bags, blew it up and smacked it between his hands.

The loud bang had Ancelyn and Bambera on their feet, back to back, glancing round for enemies.

'Good morning,' said the Doctor as he disappeared into the hall.

The sword, gun and beret were set out on a table with a note saying If you must If you must.

A car horn sounded from the front of the hotel.

Bambera scowled at Ancelyn and beat him through the door. By the time they had fought their way out to the front of the hotel, Peter Warmsly's car was heading up the drive with the shapes of the Doctor and Ace in the back.

Shou Yuing's car was already gone.

'Doctor!' yelled Bambera.

'Such anger, my lady?'

'I want that man back!' She also wanted her convoy, her car and to know what was going on. She did not want to be stuck with this grinning idiot, who pretended to be a knight from a Hollywood epic.

Ancelyn nodded after the car. 'Merlin cannot be held.

He makes the laws and goes where he will. It was always so.

If we would speak with him, my lady, we needs must follow.'

Lifting his handcuffed arms towards her, he began to jog backwards up the drive. He was holding his sword.

She swore loudly, because she had nearly laughed.

There was nothing for it; she set off up the drive after him.

There was no sign of Morgaine or her forces as they drove towards the lake. The Doctor was quiet, which Ace recognized as determination. But if he was mighty wizard Merlin, what did that make her? His familiar? Certainly no one knew as much about him as she did. Except it never seemed to work out that way.

Peter Warmsly was keen to show off the Carhury dig to the Doctor. But he never mentioned the previous night's events. Ace wondered if he could cope with them.

He parked the car beside the lake and eyed the soldiers across the tape barriers surrounding the missile convoy.

Fresh troops seemed to have arrived bringing fresh activity with them. The Doctor gave them a sidelong glance, but put up a good show of being more interested in Peter's work. 'So you excavated all this by yourself,' he said. 'Very impressive.'

The site looked like a set of muddy squares to Ace. Peter skirted the edges of them and enthused, 'Well, it was something of a labour of love. And lately I've had Shou Yuing to help.'

The Doctor peered at the mud as if he could read it like a book. 'Where did you find the scabbard?'

Peter pointed to a red marker pennant and started walking towards it.

'How long has it taken?' called Ace.

'About ten years.'

The Doctor nudged her. 'Archaeology is a delicate and precise skill. History has to be eased out of the earth one painstaking layer at a time.'

'Yeah, but ten years digging with a dustpan and brush...'

She looked down at the flat area of stone she was standing on. It was covered in weather-worn runes. 'What's this?'

'Ah, that's a bit of a mystery,' said Peter. 'I've had experts from everywhere to look at it, but no one can decipher the carvings.'

The Doctor frowned at the runes and then looked away across the lake. 'It says Dig Hole Here Dig Hole Here,' he said.

Peter was astonished. 'Extraordinary. What does it say that in?'

'My handwriting.'

Never mind that the script was Ancient Gallifreyan, this was the final proof that he hadn't particularly wanted to find. He had obviously been here in the past, somebody's past, but it certainly wasn't his.

So much for archaeology. 'Ace! I need a hole here.'

'Right,' she said and pulled out a canister of nitro-nine that they both knew he did/didn't know about. 'How long?'

'Sixty seconds should be enough.'

She turned the tiny dial on the lid and planted the canister beside the rune stone.

Peter looked alarmed as the Doctor started to lead him clear. 'Long enough for what?'

'This way please. There's nothing to worry about, my young friend is something of an expert.'

'In archaeology?' said Peter as Ace hurriedly took his other arm.

'No. Explosives.' said the Doctor.

'What!'

A blast of a brisence far greater than either the Doctor or Ace had expected hurled the three of them into the ditch for which they had been heading.

They lay face down in the mud while more hot earth showered down on them. The shouts of the soldiers could be heard. Peter Warmsly was speechless.

'I think the timer needs more work,' said Ace.

The Doctor shook earth out of his hat. 'One day, Ace, we are going to have a long talk about acceptable safety standards.'

He climbed out of the ditch and walked at speed back to what was left of the dig. Ace ran after him. He jumped and vanished into the smoking crater. It was at least four metres across and three deep. Not bad.

Ace looked back and saw Peter yelling at the soldiers. In shock, he was ordering them off Trust land.

'What's down there?' she called to the Doctor.

He was poking at the crater wall with his umbrella. She heard a tumble of stones through the smoke and heard him say, 'Aha. It's a tunnel.'

'A dark mysterious one?'

'Probably.'

'Leading to unknown dangers?'

'Oh, certainly.'

'Wicked!' She vaulted to the bottom in one go as Peter Warmsly came puffing up to the crater's edge.

'Vandals!' he shouted. 'I've been excavating this site for ten years!'

The smoke cleared and the Doctor saw his crimson face glaring down at him. 'Peter,' he said with extraordinary calmness and authority, 'Ace and I are going to investigate the tunnel. I want you to guard this end. No one is to come down here. No one.'

'Oh yes, I'll give them a lecture on archaeology!'

'Good idea. We'll bring you something back.'

He quickly ushered Ace through the dark gap in the wall. They were inside a low tubular tunnel which smelt of fish. The only light trickled in from the gap behind them.

They had to stoop to walk.

'It's damp,' said Ace and her voice echoed into the distance.

'Yes. It leads under the lake.'

She touched the tunnel sides. 'This wall's made of concrete.' The Doctor sc.r.a.ped the surface with a Victorian fruit knife that he always used as a spatula. 'It's gone soft with age. It must have been put up in the eighth century.'

'They didn't have concrete in those days.'

'No, they didn't.'

'Thought so.'

He couldn't see her knowing grin in the dim light, but he knew it was there. There was a heavy sliding crunch behind them. The way out vanished. The tunnel pitched into darkness.

'Doctor!' She stood up and her head hit the ceiling.

'Don't worry Ace, it's just a trap,' said his voice, right by her ear.

She could hear water dripping further on, but she could not move. The clinging darkness was choking her.

She felt his hand on her arm. Slowly he began to lead her towards heaven knows what.

Lavel circled the helicopter over Carbury.

Radio contact with the Czech group under Major Husak had been lost as soon as the squad entered the area.

Triangulation pinpointed the source of interference as Vortigern's Lake to the north of the village. The Brigadier naturally expected to find the Doctor somewhere close to the source of the trouble. But he wanted a thorough recce of the village first. He knew from bitter experience that if the Doctor was on form, no one would ever find out what was going on until it was all over.

There was plenty of storm damage around Carbury and the single road through the village was deserted. He scoured the landscape below for something familiar, preferably an abandoned police box. There was nothing.

Despite seeing one roadblock set up on the village perimeter, the Brigadier was unsure that the exclusion zone was working. He was not even certain that he would recognize the Doctor when he did run into him.

He saw a glint of metal coming from the direction of the Norman church and half glimpsed a row of soldiers formed up through the trees.

'Take her round again. Lavel.' he said. Something niggled at the back of his mind. 'Are you armed, Lieutenant?'