Liz glared at the Brigadier as he entered the laboratory with a brisk "Good morning!" at exactly 6.32am. He looked rested, shaved, groomed and raring to go, and Liz hated him for having the audacity to look that good at such a ridiculous hour of the morning.
All she wanted to do was sleep for a week, but his first words reminded her that she had to keep going somehow. Crossing to the bench where the Doctor's strange electronic contraption sat, he frowned down at it for a moment, and said: "Is this it?"
"I suppose you were expecting some sort of laser cannon, or a nice neat neutron grenade you could throw?" said the Doctor. He wagged a finger in admonishment. "Too many Flash Gordon serials at the Pictures when you were a child, Brigadier, that's your trouble! Or was Dan Dare more in your line?"
The Brigadier opened his mouth to retort, but the Doctor pressed on: "I know it doesn't look much, but this really is our best chance. It's a sonic based… oh, never mind the details, you won't understand them anyway. All you need to know is that it has a very limited range. We need to get into that factory, and find that room that Ransome told us about."
"Yes, I rather expected that. I've already been to the communications room – told them to put our support platoons on standby." The Brigadier sat on the edge of the bench and rested his swagger-stick across one leg. "The trouble is, I still don't have any official backing to do this! I put a call through to Geneva last night, but no-one's got back to me yet."
"Does that mean we've just got to sit here? Letting those things take over the country while you wait for written orders in triplicate?" Liz was appalled. Surely he could see that something like this was more important than the chain of command?
"Miss Shaw, if it comes down to a choice between saving my career or saving the planet, I hope I know where my duty lies," he said, and she felt immediately ashamed of herself for having doubted him. "Now, perhaps you could tune in that radio over there, find out if there have been any reports of odd happenings yet?"
"Yes, of course."
As she turned to switch the radio on, the phone buzzed for attention, and she heard boots on concrete as the Brigadier stepped across to answer it. As Liz turned the tuning dial to station after station, getting nothing but noise and static, she listened to the Brigadier's end of the conversation. It didn't sound good.
"Are you sure?" he said, his voice tense, "Get on to the police, man. Try the army! Well keep trying!"
He slammed the phone down and turned to face them, the decision on whether or not to act clearly made.
"It's started, hasn't it?" said the Doctor, quietly
The Brigadier's voice was quiet, but the message he conveyed was terrifying. "Yes – all over the country. Window dummies coming alive. Police stations, barracks, communications centres…"
"The radio's dead as well." Liz switched it off. There was only one thing to do now: hope that the Doctor's 'make do and mend' weapon actually worked.
