Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers Part 13

'The people of Kiev face a great threat,' continued Olexander, seemingly unfazed. 'There are those who believe you may save us. We ask only for your help.'

The creature came closer still, its eyes, like its skin, now flowing with colours and shades of light and dark. 'This bunker must be compromised,' it said, as if that explained everything.

'We beg you ' said Olexander.

They were his last words.

The creature leapt at him, its mouth gnawing at his neck and shoulder. Olexander screamed once as he fell and it held tight to him like a funeral shroud. There was just the slightest of pauses as they hit the ground, the creature's head swinging from side to side. Then it raised one of its long arms and drew its claws across Olexander's throat.

My body finally came to life. Sickened by what I had seen, and without even thinking, I turned to flee, my feet flapping furiously against the damp catacomb floor.

Before I even had time to consider where to run, or what to do, there was a rus.h.i.+ng weight on my back that knocked me flying. My face clattered into the cold stone ground, sending a shower of sparking stars before my eyes.

I could taste blood in my mouth.

With flailing arms I tried to right myself, though my entire body screamed an immediate protest.

I looked up to see two eyes flaming in the shadows.

And I screamed in terror as that great mouth swept down on me.

X.

Laqueus Reloading archive 76-FG-92-SD...

Complete.

Resume archive 76-FG-92-SD...

Initial summary: Command structure pathways to target BDR-997-XRF are being established. Ingress to the northern dome is confirmed as next priority. established. Ingress to the northern dome is confirmed as next priority.

The a.s.sa.s.sin approaches one of the dome's smaller portals. It is wary of discovery, but knows that the success of its mission will depend on it hiding the caution it feels. As the mission proceeds, it will become even more important to maintain appearances.

Unclean soldiers stationed within the dome idly watch as the a.s.sa.s.sin rests a hand on the scanner. In tones laced with humour and resignation, they joke about having had the same food now for over a week. There is a click of recognition from the hardware, an appropriate comment is made in return, and then the a.s.sa.s.sin moves towards the service corridors. They are arranged like concentric circles around inner geometric rooms; the optimum path is plotted.

As the a.s.sa.s.sin walks through the tunnels soldiers pa.s.s, staring always forward, contemplating their own fate and not the enemy in their midst. At one junction a senior officer demands identification, but once this is given he loses interest, and sets off in a different direction.

The corridor branches into an unexpected junction the maps are in error. The a.s.sa.s.sin pauses, decides on one doorway, but it does not open. Security clearance is insufficient.

The a.s.sa.s.sin pauses, calculates a new route, then walks away.

It is stopped moments later by a biomechanoid, hastily a.s.sembled from the sc.r.a.ps of flesh and metal recovered from a bombed-out bunker. The a.s.sa.s.sin wonders briefly if this thing can innately recognise its enemy. Perhaps a fury burns deep within its circuitry and sluggishly pumping hearts, fury at being denied the peace of death and it adopts all protocols, with precise formality and an absence of humour.

The a.s.sa.s.sin tries to placate the mechanoid, to reason with it.

But, somehow, suspicions have been aroused. An arm, blackened with the smoke of the original attack and now kept alive by a network of pulsing tubes, raises a simple percussive weapon.

The a.s.sa.s.sin pauses as if in meek surrender, and waits for the moment. The biomechanoid turns, about to call others to its aid.

The a.s.sa.s.sin strikes, completing the job left half-done. As the biomechanoid dies, there are no screams the creatures that formed it welcome the silence of darkness.

The a.s.sa.s.sin continues towards its target. The dome will soon be on alert but the target is close, so very close.

And then it will be over.

Result of action: Dome penetrated. Una.s.signed mechanoid destroyed. Mission success index: 59.1%. 59.1%.

'It is as I predicted.' Mykola's face broke into a satisfied smile.

'The wolves did not threaten us.'

'Indeed, sir,' said the Doctor. 'We are all in your debt.' He dusted down his frock coat and trousers, breathing deeply in the fresh morning air.

'I am sure my men would have responded in a similar manner,' replied Mykola modestly. 'I was simply the first to wake. Your own actions should be commended.'

The Doctor looked at the young captain closely, aware that his respect for him was rising. The reality was proving rather different to the shallow villain or easily swayed weakling he, and perhaps Governor Dmitri, had expected. Whatever Mykola had done in the recent past and that, at the very least, seemed to involve lying in order to incriminate Steven his considered admissions to the Doctor spoke of a man still struggling to come to terms with other people's expectations of him and with the awful authority of command.

'We must move out now,' said Mykola, staring at the just-rising sun. 'I sense that the Tartars are not far away.'

'How will you know for sure?' queried the Doctor.

'I believe we will hear them plain enough.'

Within minutes they were back on their horses, provisions and equipment safely stowed away, and were heading implacably for the Mongol army.

The Doctor rode at the front of the group, alongside Mykola. He wasn't sure what, if anything, to say to the man.

Subtle questioning had produced little by way of an honest response, but a straight question would probably get no answer at all. And so the Doctor lapsed into silence, mulling over Mykola's careful words, and his own fears for the safety of Dodo and Steven in Kiev.

It was the young captain who spoke first, about an hour into their journey. 'Do you think your friends will be safe in the city?'

he asked, as if reading the Doctor's mind.

'Steven is a man of great character and resourcefulness,' said the Doctor. 'And Dodo is quite capable of looking after herself.'

Mykola glanced away from him, lowering his voice. 'I meant... Do you fear for them, if the Tartars attack?'

'I fear for us all,' said the Doctor.

'I had hoped,' continued Mykola, 'that perhaps you had foreknowledge of the fate of our city.'

'What do you mean?'

'It is said by some that you know of the future, and of our fate at the hands of the Tartars. Perhaps Kiev will be safe after all, and that is why you are content to leave your friends there.'

There was an honest desperation in the man's voice.

'What can anyone know of the future?' the Doctor asked with a dismissive chuckle as if the idea was, self-evidently, nonsensical.

'Any man can see into the future, if G.o.d Himself wills it so.'

The Doctor saw the fear behind the man's questions. Mykola only wanted his loved ones to be safe, and was thus likely to seize on even the slightest hint that they would be. The Doctor reflected that it would be a cold-hearted man who did otherwise.

He sighed. 'I'll be honest with you, young man,' he said at length. 'I have a vision of the future, and it is not pleasant.' He paused, his eyes scanning the lush gra.s.slands and forests that surrounded them. 'But I would scarcely approach the Mongols if I did not think there was some chance that the city might be spared.'

'Is that your only reason for coming?'

'I do have other concerns,' admitted the Doctor. 'But all my concerns will be met if I am able to persuade the Mongol leaders to stay their hand.'

'Are you confident?'

'I am confident I can put a strong case,' smiled the Doctor.

'I cannot be confident that what I say will be received with open hearts and minds.'

Mykola nodded sagely. 'We must all do what we think is for the best,' he said in a quiet voice.

The Doctor was about to question him further when the captain sat bolt upright in his saddle, pointing into the middle distance. 'Look!' he exclaimed in a loud voice.

The men behind the Doctor murmured their interest. A light was glinting on the edge of the plain, the weak sun catching something metallic and s.h.i.+ny.

It was moving towards them.

'What is it?' queried the Doctor.

Mykola shaded his eyes, squinting further into the distance.

'I cannot tell. Someone on horseback, coming at speed towards us.'

'A Tartar?' asked one of the soldiers, nervously gripping the sword at his side.

'Perhaps,' said Mykola. 'I do not believe he has seen us in any case, can one man defeat us all?' As he said this, he turned to the soldiers who flanked him, clearly hoping to instil enthusiasm and bravado with words alone.

'But they are devils. Their trickery is notorious,' said a soldier, fidgeting nervously in his saddle.

'If you think such things you should have stayed in the city, playing with the girls of the street!' exclaimed Mykola. 'We should capture this lone rider, and from him discover the location of the Tartar army.'

'Your friend may have a point,' said the Doctor. 'It could be a trap. He could intentionally have alerted us to his presence.'

'Nonsense!' said Mykola. 'He has made a mistake. We must use that mistake against our foe!' He jerked on the reins of his horse, altering direction and speed. 'You will all follow me. We do not wish to meet this Tartar head-on.'

The Doctor said nothing, for Mykola's mind was clearly made up. He spurred his horse clumsily, gripping the leather reins tightly as his mount caught up with the others.

They proceeded swiftly through the long gra.s.s, heading towards a small clump of bent trees that would offer them a vantage point from which to sweep down towards the Mongol scout. All eyes were trained on the rider who was coming closer all the time, now forming a bright brown speck against the yellowing plain.

The Doctor stared at the approaching figure, nodding his head slowly. Yes, it was a Mongol soldier, his horse galloping at full speed across the gra.s.slands.

Even from a distance, the Mongol and his mount were very different from the soldiers and horses who surrounded the Doctor. The horse was only three-quarters of the size of the great beasts that had carried the men from the city; a stocky little thing, it was scarcely bigger than a pony, but blessed with powerful legs that propelled it forward at great speed. The Mongols were legendary hors.e.m.e.n, and it was in no small part down to the unique creatures they bred and utilised in their battles.

The soldier himself was small, and covered from head to foot in folds of light leather armour. The Doctor could just make out a conical helmet of metal presumably it was this that flashed in the sunlight as the man bent closer to the head of his horse, urging it to still greater speed.

The Doctor looked at the men from Kiev, and saw that their eyes were narrowed with contempt. They had clearly never seen a soldier of this ilk before, and he looked puny compared to the great clanking knights of Europe.

The Mongol was close to pa.s.sing them by when Mykola cracked his reins again, and, as one, the horses crashed through the knotted trees and back on to the plain. The Russian soldiers let out whoops of joy, unsheathing their weapons in expectation of the battle to come.

The Mongol horseman seemed barely to look in their direction, concentrating instead on turning his horse around. In a moment, he was riding away from them.

'He's frightened, lads!' exclaimed one of the soldiers. Mykola and the others, shouting in joyful abandon, pursued the fleeing figure across the plain.

The Doctor frowned. His mount seemed inclined to stay to the rear of the tight knot of soldiers, and he was grateful.

Without warning, there was a whispered whistle from one side; in the blink of an eye, four soldiers tumbled from their horses, screaming.

Panicked, the Doctor swung round in his saddle to look to the source of the sound it came again, and three more men fell, blood arcing in the air and saw two rows of Mongol bowmen standing proudly in the long gra.s.s.

The Doctor's mount clattered over a fallen horse, stumbled, and then began to rear up on its hind legs.

With a sickening thud, an arrow embedded itself in the creature's flank and it slid to the ground in a flurry of splayed limbs.

The Doctor was thrown free, and as he hit the ground hard the breath was knocked from him. His back exploded in agony and for a moment a kaleidoscope of colours sparkled before his eyes. Then his lungs sucked in air again, and his vision cleared. He saw a finely chiselled, golden face looking down at him. The mouth below a delicately trimmed moustache broke into a surprised smile.

Then the archer raised his bow, aiming its notched arrow at the Doctor's chest.

XI.

Libertas I think I blacked out. Certainly, I remembered the awful skeletal thing launching itself at me; the next moment, I was on my own, and the creature was gone.

I shook my head. How long had I been lying on the floor? I couldn't tell, though my arms and legs were stiff and cold.

In a rush of awful memory, I remembered the attack on Olexander and I forced myself to my feet, hobbling over to where the old man had fallen.

His skin, stretched tightly across his face, was translucent; his throat and shoulders a ma.s.s of sodden clothing and ripped skin.