Part 11 (1/2)

'What else can I do? General Cutler holds all the cards. He makes the decisions.'

Polly looked around her for a moment, then leant forward across the desk, and whispered, 'Can't we wait, though-fight off the Cybermen until Mondas is destroyed? It might mean the end of Cutler's son, of course, but it would be one life against millions.'

The tall physicist looked at her miserably and shook his head. 'What can I do? If I don't follow the General's orders, he's quite capable of going ahead without me. He's a very ruthless man.'

'Couldn't we pretend to follow his orders-but make sure the rocket doesn't go off!'

Barclay looked at her with fresh hope, the idea beginning to take root... Suddenly, they heard Cutler's voice on the other side of the tracking room.

Polly moved back rather too quickly, as if caught in a conspiracy. But Cutler didn't seem to have noticed. He was speaking to the radar technician. 'Anything to report?'

'Yes, sir. A signal on the screen-about here.' He indicated with his finger. 'Fifteen hundred miles north north-east, alt.i.tude fifteen zero. It's been stationary for the last ten minutes.'

Cutler peered at the screen for a moment. 'Keep a close watch on it. Report to me the instant it starts moving. Any more word from my son?'

Barclay came to the General's side. 'We can't seem to raise him, General.'

'What?' His eyes searched for the R/T technician but, before he could speak, the radar technician broke in urgently: 'That blip, it's moving, sir. Coming in fast, course o-one-five.'

Where's it heading?'

'Straight in here, General.'

'The Cybermen again?' asked Barclay.

Cutler nodded: 'Must be.'

'Do we use the anti-missile battery this time?' asked Barclay. Cutler shook his head. 'No, I've a better idea. We'll let them land. Then ambush them with their own weapons.'

He looked towards the console by the door where the Cybermen's captured weapons were still laid out in a row, then tapped the R/T man on the shoulder. 'Put the whole base on red alert. Stand-by.'

'Right, General.' The R/T technician leant forward and spoke into the mike. 'Now hear this. All base to red alert stand-by. Repeat, all base to red alert stand-by. Enemy landing imminent. Report to your stations.'

Cutler picked up the phone and dialled a number. 'Security Major? Put your three best marksmen under snow camouflage and issue them with the captured Cyberweapons.

Report on your R/Ts when you are in position.'

Cutler turned back to Barclay. 'How long to count down?'

Barclay glanced at his watch for a moment. 'Ten minutes.'

'They'll be here by then. We'll have to hold them off first, then proceed with the launching.'

A buzzer sounded harshly. 'Well?'

Dyson's voice came over the loudspeaker system. 'The bomb's in position in the rocket, sir. Will you check it now?'

'Yeah, just got time before the battle commences.' He turned and strode rapidly out of the room.

Polly turned excitedly to Barclay. 'Now's our chance,' she whispered.

'What?' Barclay turned, startled.

'To see Ben-he may be able to help. We must do something to stop that rocket.'

Barclay hesitated, glancing indecisively from Polly to his seat at the control console.

'Quick,' continued Polly. 'It's our only chance-while the General's out of the room.

Come on-hurry before it's too late.'

Trying to appear inconspicuous, she picked up the coffee tray and walked towards the door. Barclay hesitated for just a moment and then followed her.

In the cabin, Ben had removed the grille and edged his body half way up through the exposed ventilation shaft. 'Lucky we don't get much grub on the TARDIS -I'd never get through this on navy rations ! '

Suddenly, he heard the cabin door open. Legs waving wildly, he tried to wriggle out of the shaft.

'Ben!'

He turned quickly: to his relief it was Polly!

She ran across and peered into the Doctor's face. He still seemed to be fast asleep. 'How is he, Ben?'

Ben eased himself down from the top bunk. 'Cor, I'm glad to see you, Polly.' He nodded towards the Doctor: 'He seems pretty fair.'

Barclay entered the room and closed the door behind him and Ben turned quickly, on his guard.

'It's all right, Ben, Dr Barclay's going to help us.'

'Great! Good work, Polly. What can we do to stop this rocket, then?'

Barclay looked towards the door, and then moved closer to the two time travellers.

'It can be immobilised quite simply-if one can get into the rocket silo, that is.'

'Can't you?'

Barclay shook his head. 'Cutler suspects me already. It's under constant guard. If I or any of my staff try to tamper with the controls, we'd be discovered immediately.'