One of the most important things I've learned over the years is that there are no truly hopeless situations, only those that appear so.
That said, this one was rather convincing. My hands, tied behind my back. Any tricks I'd brought with me, already used and discarded. And my gun, in the hands of the megalomaniac currently standing before me, gesturing with it as he elucidated his plans.
"In a few moments," my captor, Novella Snipes, continued, "the satellite network will be activated, and I'll have complete control over this planet's communications system." I listened even as I wracked my brain for a plan. If this was a hopeless situation, it was the first I'd ever encountered, and any word being blathered in front of me could contain the hint I needed to escape.
Suddenly, a man burst into the room, his long trench coat whipping forward as he slid to a stop. His wide eyes were the same colour as the hair above that stood up like the crest of a cockatoo. Based on the look my host shot the newcomer, I gathered that he was not expected.
"Ah, now this looks like the right place," the man enthused with a wild grin as he took in the complex machinery lining the long room. "You always know you've found something important if blinking lights are everywhere, especially if they come in, let's see, one, two, three, four," he counted, pointing, before giving up with a dismissive wave, "oh, at least a dozen different colours."
His oddly elated words were said in perfect Received Pronunciation, and I wondered where he could have possibly come from. MI6 wouldn't have sent a second agent, not without briefing me, but who else would send this man?
As I, along with my captor, watched in shock, the man strolled around the room, casually examining the machinery. "This is beautiful though," he said with admiration, clearly determined to not stop talking. "Amazing workmanship." He ducked down low, peering at a panel of switches. "From Mirabilis Minor, if I'm not mistaken."
"That's enough," Snipes said, finally remembering he had the gun, and thus the apparent control over the situation. "Stand up. Hands up where I can see them."
"Ooh," the newcomer gave a little chuckle and looked over at me with a wink. "Guess I better do what he says."
"Who the hell are you?"
The man pulled himself up straight and grinned. "I'm the Doctor."
"It's obvious MI6 aren't the only ones who know you're here," I ignored the man to address Snipes. "Give it up. Cut your losses here and now."
He wouldn't listen. They never did. But the strange man, the Doctor, whoever he worked for, could use the distraction as Snipes glanced over at me.
Or not. "He makes a compelling point," the Doctor mused, having way too much fun while the fate of the world hung in the balance. "Maybe you should listen to him." I shot him a glare, hoping he got the idea to put whatever plan he had into motion, but he only responded by shaking his head. "Oh, don't pout. He's only a middle-man," he jerked his thumb towards Snipes. "Really has no idea what's going on. But I think if I show him this," his voice lowered to a serious tone as he produced an glowing, humming object that I could not identify, "He might let us talk to who's really in charge."
Transfixed by the device in the Doctor's hand, Snipes gulped. "I, I don't," he stammered, "I can't... It… She only talks to me when she wants to, I can't – "
"That's enough, little human," a voice like buzzing static electricity hissed through the air. It was unlike any voice – any sound – I had ever heard. For a moment I wondered if Snipes had given me some sort of drug before I discarded the thought as useless.
"I'm sorry," Snipes was yelling up at the rafters. "I don't know how he got in."
"If he is who he says, you could not have kept him out," the voice said, almost reassuringly. "But his presence does mean you are no longer useful."
"Wait, no!" Snipes had time to scream before the entire room thrummed, and Snipes seemed to simply shake himself apart, letting my Walther PPK clatter to the floor, his last words overlapped by the Doctor's own cry of "Stop!"
"Stop this," he continued, angrily stalking past me, his eyes dead set on something behind me. I heard a low mechanical buzz as he brushed by, and the handcuffs on my wrists loosened. "This will kill millions."
"Yes," the voice hissed in agreement. "And enslave the rest."
I flexed my wrists experimentally, and the handcuffs fell away, almost clattering to the floor before I stole them out of the air. Holding the bindings tight in my hand to keep them from jangling, moving slowly, I shifted my body, turning as far as I could without making it completely obvious that I was free.
The scene behind me seemed to stretch away as the universe and what I knew of it reeled. The back half of the room was still there and yet somehow… Not. Through the shimmering reality I saw circuitry suspending in space, connected by light, I saw metal moving as if it lived, I saw slick, black tendrils at the centre of the chaos.
Even in the midst of all that, the logical part of my brain still worked. Underlying my utter confusion was a powerful current of sanity that told me that this thing, whatever it was, could not possibly think of me as a threat. A mistake, on its part.
I stood out of the chair, not taking my eyes off the maelstrom before me as I crouched to retrieve my weapon. In my peripheral vision I could see the man, the Doctor, standing unfazed, the glowing device still perched in his hand.
"Can't do any of that without this, can you?" he asked with a slightly unhinged smile, and then whirled to face me and hurl the device high into the air. "Catch!"
I dove forward on pure instinct, snatching the small globe as it finished its narrow arc. The Doctor had already raced away, leaving me the focus of the being's attention. I scanned the room to see him furiously banging at a control panel.
Right. Distraction.
I whipped my gun up in front of me and fired off a few rounds at the twisting metal that reached for me. It jolted back as the bullets bounced off it, the momentary delay giving me just enough time to turn and run.
As I raced down a corridor, fleeing from the room and its monstrous occupant, shrieks and crashes came from behind me. The rebar and cement of the underground facility were being rent apart as I ran, and I dared a glance back to see flowing liquid darkness chasing me. I didn't know what the Doctor's plan was, but I hoped it worked fast – and that the inky tendrils hadn't ripped him apart as they passed by in pursuit of me.
Metal rattled beneath me as I leapt up onto a catwalk and kept moving, every pounding step sending a shudder through the structure. The long narrow path was suspended over Snipes' – or, more likely, the thing's – server bay, poised to wreak havoc on every communication network on Earth. It was a straight shot to the reinforced bunkers.
Without warning, I was thrown to the side. The straight path had ripped apart behind me with a pained squeal, and I was flung into the railing. Pain shot through my stomach as I nearly doubled over across the thin metal. Black tinged the edges of my vision, threatening to overtake me. Gritting my teeth, I ignored the pain and forced small shallow breaths in my lungs and staggered to my feet, determined to keep moving.
There was another screech, and the catwalk was plucked out of place, leaving scraps of metal dangling from the bolts still buried in the cement walls. It floated in midair for a fraction of a second, long enough for me to realise what was about to happen. I grabbed onto the railing with my free hand, and, with the arm that still held the device the Doctor had thrown to me, I looped my elbow around the support.
The thing pursuing me upended the catwalk and gave it a shake, like an infant that doesn't yet understand how to play with its toys. I clung to the railing with all my strength, my legs flailing below me as I tried to find something to climb up on.
The catwalk lifted further up into the air, bringing me face to face with the inner mass of the thing attacking me. It looked like furling and unfurling darkness. My eyes couldn't find a point of reference to orient myself on, and the shape of the writhing mass eluded me.
"Give me the device," its voice again stained the air, "And your end will be quick."
Below me the servers thrummed, a new vibration joining their pulse. I glanced down to see sparks shooting from one bank of computers, and another flashing error warnings. There was a long silence from the thing as we both understood it was over.
"Looks like the line just went dead," I said.
There was a howl like wind tearing a building from its foundation. The sound undulated, punctuation by harsh crackles, and I wondered if this was an incoherent scream of rage or curses in an inhuman tongue.
Energy throbbed through the catwalk, shocking all my muscles at once, and I lost my grip. I hit the ground completely limp, my body automatically absorbing the shock. With a groan, I managed to roll over and climb to my feet, bruised but not broken.
In a flash of movement, the Doctor raced by before stopping short and whirling around. "Ah, there you are," he greeted me cheerfully. The room gave an ominous rumble. "Time to get going!" He raced off.
"Where are you going, that's the wrong way!" I called after him.
"I've got a shortcut!" he called back.
I paused for a split second – it was all the time I could afford – but my instinct told me this man knew what he was doing. I followed, bursting through a doorway to find the Doctor rushing towards an old police box.
The presence of the police box raised a few questions, but, under the circumstances, none of them were a priority. The real question was, how did the Doctor plan to escape when he was wasting time by going into the police box?
He spun around in the open doorway and gave me the most intense stare I had ever seen. "Get in," he urged.
"This is ludicrous, I don't – "
"Just trust me and get in!"
Shaking my head in disbelief – more at myself than the Doctor – I did what he said, running through the open door of the police box. Behind me, the Doctor shut the door, but not before I heard the thunder of the epicenter of a massive explosion and felt the wave of heat slam into me.
I only felt the pain a few seconds later.
There was a force like I had been punched in the back, then a slice of pain. A fraction of a second later, my abdomen flooded with ice. Peeling aside my black tuxedo jacket, my gaze slowly lowered to my stomach. A slender piece of metal lanced through my body, the slick coat of blood making the spike resemble the shiny black tendrils of the thing outside.
I fell first to my knees. Then I tilted to the side, collapsing to the floor. I could hear how hard I hit the ground, but I didn't feel it.
In a flash, the Doctor was kneeling by my side, his brown eyes wide as he took in my injury. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."
"It was - " I coughed up blood, "It was bound to happen sooner or later." My gaze unfocused, and for the first time the depth of the space behind the Doctor, the size of the interior of the police box. "The inside doesn't match the outside," I commented weakly, my vision contracting.
"No," the Doctor smiled sadly as he shook his head. "No it doesn't."
My eyes closed to slits, the last of my strength draining out onto the floor. I felt like I was melting and spreading along with it, thinning until I would disappear.
I'd always wondered what my death would be like. It came with the job. Overall, a quick death just after going into shock seemed like one of the better options.
A throb in my chest told me I'd spoken too soon. Another one on the other side of my ribcage echoed it as awareness once again exploded through my brain. The icy feeling around the spike through my stomach was replaced with heat. No, heat didn't do it justice. This was pure fire, and it was racing up from my wound, spreading to my limbs, sending blinding white agony into my brain. The inferno grabbed every cell in steely talons, tearing me apart from the inside out. There was a dull clang as the shard of metal somehow squeezed its way out of my body as if it was nothing more than a splinter. I opened my mouth in a scream of pain.
The Doctor's eyes opened wider than I would have thought possible, golden flares reflected in his pupils.