Doctor Who_ The Mind Of Evil Part 13

Hijack The cell door opened and Vosper came in, followed by Charlie, who was carrying a tray which held two mugs of tea and a plate of toast.

There wasn't a lot of toast left, and Charlie and Vosper were munching as they entered the cell.

'I thought that was supposed to be for us,' said Jo indignantly. She was sitting by the Doctor's bed. The Doctor was stretched out as before, apparently unconscious.

'Don't worry,' growled Charlie. 'You'll get yours.'

'Thanks,' said Jo and high-kicked the tray upwards into his face.

Charlie staggered back, spluttering and soaked with hot tea. The Doctor sprang to his feet and felled him with a swift touch of Venusian Aikido.

Vosper jumped back, reaching for his gun. The Doctor s.n.a.t.c.hed up the heavy metal tray and crowned him with it.

There was a satisfying bong and Vosper fell, and Jo s.n.a.t.c.hed up his pistol.

The Doctor and Jo shot out through the still-open door.

The keys were still in the lock, and the Doctor locked the cell and tossed the keys along the corridor.

Jo was looking at him in amazement. 'Really Doctor for someone who was at death's door a moment ago '

'Yes, I do have remarkable powers of recovery, don't I?'

said the Doctor cheerfully. 'Come along.'

As they hurried along the corridor, they could hear Vosper and Charlie, obviously recovering, banging on the cell door and yelling for help...

The Doctor led Jo swiftly along the prison corridors and into the Governor's office. Their luck was in, and they met n.o.body on the way. The big old-fashioned room was empty. The Doctor noticed that someone had picked the desk up, and cleared up most of the mess.

Jo went over to the window. Armed prisoners were running around the courtyard. 'They seem to be organising a search for us.'

'They'll be expecting us to try and break out, Jo!'

'Well, aren't we?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Not while everybody is chasing about. We'll let 'em cool off a bit and try later.'

'Telephone!' said Jo suddenly. 'There must be a telephone somewhere.'

'There is,' said the Doctor, pointing to a box on the desk. 'It's a prison telephone, they keep it in a locked box.

Anyway, they've got prisoners manning the switchboard.'

Thwarted, Jo wandered over to the projector and switched it on. A map appeared on the wall screen. She fiddled with the projector, and the map was replaced by a picture of a rocket on its trailer. 'What's that?'

The Doctor glanced at the screen. 'That, my dear Jo, is the Thunderbolt missile, at present under the escort of Captain Yates.'

'What's it got to do with the Master?'

'Everything,' said the Doctor simply. 'He's hoping to steal it!'

Following the Master's plan, Mailer and his men had parked the Black Maria in a country lane just off the main road.

The spot chosen for the ambush was ideal. The road narrowed slightly at this point, running between high gra.s.sy banks lined with trees. Mailer posted his men in cover on both sides of the road. 'Now, don't forget,' he ordered. 'Wait till they get level before you let them have it.'

They waited and in a surprisingly short time there came the thin whine of motor bike engines and the rumble of a heavy vehicle. 'Right, here they come!'

The convoy was a sitting duck or rather, it was like the row of ducks in a shooting gallery.

First came the two motor cyclists. Then the Land Rover, with Mike Yates and a UNIT driver. Then the heavy transporter with Benton at the wheel. Then two more motor cyclists bringing up the rear.

As the little convoy trundled along, Mike Yates was thinking that things seemed to be running smoothly at last. They had been held up for an incredibly long time because the crane needed to put the rocket onto the trailer had failed to arrive.

When it did arrive at last, getting the rocket onto the loader and securing it safely had been an incredibly slow and complicated business. Only by driving through the night had the convoy managed to get back on schedule.

Nevertheless, they were were back on schedule, and should make the rendezvous point in Portsmouth in plenty of time. After that the Navy could take over the Thunderbolt missile and, as far as Mike Yates was concerned, they were welcome to it. back on schedule, and should make the rendezvous point in Portsmouth in plenty of time. After that the Navy could take over the Thunderbolt missile and, as far as Mike Yates was concerned, they were welcome to it.

Mike was in the middle of these consoling thoughts when the first bullets struck the jeep. His driver slumped over the wheel and the jeep careered wildly across the road.

Conscious of the rattle of bullets all around him, Mike grabbed the wheel and managed to run the Land Rover into the side of the road, where it hit the bank with a thump that almost stunned him.

The motor cyclists had no chance at all.

In the open and unprotected, they were cut down by a hail of bullets from both sides of the road. Caught in a crossfire, they toppled from their machines and lay dead or wounded scattered over the road and up the bank.

Upturned motor cycles roared and whined, spinning their wheels...

Benton put his foot on the gas, hoping to crash straight through the ambush. Suddenly a black van swung out in front of him.

Instinctively, Benton jammed on the brakes and the heavy transporter slewed into the bank at the side of the road. Benton started to climb out, reaching for his revolver. Suddenly the door was flung open, and the b.u.t.t of a pistol smashed down on his head.

His unconscious body was dragged out into the road and a convict took his place.

Mike Yates meanwhile had already scrambled out of the jeep and taken cover behind a tree at the side of the road.

His first responsibility was to get a message out, and he was talking frantically into his UNIT walkie-talkie. 'Venus to Jupiter, Venus to Jupiter, do you read me? Convoy under armed attack... Estimated position...'

On the other side of the road, one of the prisoners spotted the khaki-clad figure, raised his rifle and fired.

The bullet didn't hit Mike Yates but it hit the intercom, which flew through the air. Mike gave a realistic yell of agony, spun round and collapsed. Satisfied, the prisoner moved away. Mike edged towards the walkie-talkie...

Jupiter, which was of course UNIT HQ, had got only the first part of Mike's message, before it was cut off.

The Brigadier was shouting into the radio-telephone.

'Jupiter to Venus, Jupiter to Venus, give us your position.

The only reply was a crackling of static.

Mike Yates was fiddling frantically with the walkie-talkie, 'Venus to Jupiter do you read me?'

The little unit was completely dead, its casing shattered by the bullet.

Cautiously, Mike raised his head and looked round and saw the transporter being driven away, with the Black Maria following.

The hijack had been a complete success.

Since he'd already lost the missile, Mike decided grimly, the only thing to do was to find out where it was being taken.

As the transporter disappeared, Mike looked round and spotted an apparently undamaged motor-bike. It lay at the side of the road, engine roaring, the dead rider huddled nearby.

Mike ran to the motor-bike, lifted it upright, swung into the saddle and sped off down the road after the stolen missile.

Laying by the roadside, Sergeant Benton raised his head and stared dazedly at Mike Yates roaring away... then he fell back unconscious.

The Brigadier pointed at the map. 'Last time Captain Yates checked in officially, he was here. Now, given the estimated speed of the convoy and the time of the emergency call, the ambush must have taken place about here! I want a chopper standing by to take me down there as soon as possible!'

Corporal Bell said, 'I'll get on to it right away, sir.'

'And I want a Mobile HQ and a full forensic team in the area.'

She reached for the phone. 'Shall we ask for police and Regular Army co-operation, sir?'

'No. UNIT personnel only. This missile isn't supposed to exist, remember! Keep trying to get in touch with Captain Yates.'

Corporal Bell returned to the radio-telephone. 'Jupiter to Venus. Do you read me?' But there was no reply.

At that precise moment Captain Yates was lying in the gra.s.s at the edge of what appeared to be a deserted airfield.

The transporter had been parked outside the hangar doors, and a little group of men who, to Mike's amazement wore Army uniform were busy with a mobile crane, preparing to set the missile up, ready for firing.

Mike decided he had seen enough. It was more important than ever that he pa.s.sed on the location of the missile to UNIT HQ.

He turned and sprinted back to where he had left the motor bike, lifted it up and swung into the saddle, kicking the engine into life. Unfortunately, the noise attracted the attention of one of the armed convicts.

As Mike sped away, the convict opened fire, and several of his fellows joined in.

This time Mike Yates wasn't so lucky. One of the bullets struck him in the shoulder, smashing him from the motor-bike.

Mike lay still for some minutes, sick and dazed from the wound and from the heavy fall.

Gamely he started to struggle to his feet, but it was already too late. There was a pounding of feet, and a gang of armed convicts ran up. Brutally they hauled him to his feet, and dragged him away.

The Brigadier was trying to get some sense out of a still-dazed Sergeant Benton, while a UNIT medical orderly dressed the gash on the top of the Sergeant's head. All around, the UNIT team were taking away the dead and wounded, clearing wreckage, and searching the scene for clues.

'And is that all you can tell me, Benton?' said the Brigadier at last.

'It all happened so quickly, sir,' said Benton. He looked apologetically at the Brigadier.

'Did you see what happened to Captain Yates?'

'I thought they got him, sir.'

'Not unless they took the body with them. And one of the bikes was missing.'

'I saw someone on a motor-bike, sir just before I pa.s.sed out again. Maybe it was Captain Yates. Maybe he followed them, sir?'

'Yes, maybe. Anything else, Benton?'

'There is just one other thing, sir. They were using a plain black van, the sort the police use. A black Maria.'

The Brigadier raised his voice. 'Map!'

A UNIT corporal hurried up with a map. The Brigadier studied it for a moment. 'Stangmoor Prison!'

Benton looked puzzled. 'What's that, sir?'

'Where else would you get a Black Maria? Benton, you stay here and rendezvous with Major Cosgrove and the mobile HQ. I'll join you later.'

'Where will you be, sir?'

'I'm going to take a look at Stangmoor prison!' The Brigadier headed for his helicopter.

Jo was still staring out of the window.

The Doctor sat at the Governor's desk, brooding, his chin in his hands.

Jo swung round. 'Doctor, we can't just go on sitting here.'

'Why not? It's the safest place at the moment. Besides, I need time to think. I've got to find a way of dealing with that creature.'

'What creature?'

'The one in the machine.'

'You mean there's something alive in there?'

'I do.'

'What is it?'

'An alien mind parasite, Jo, a creature from another planet. It feeds on mental energy, particularly on the mind's darker, more primitive impulses. On evil, if you like. It's probably the deadliest threat to mankind since the beginning of time...'

The Doctor sat staring into s.p.a.ce, thinking of the remote planet on the edge of a far distant galaxy where the creatures had first been discovered.