"Hello Barry," said the grey haired man, stood between her and the vault door. His beige trench coat was undone and his left hand was in the pocket of a brown pinstriped suit. He had a small silver gun in his right hand pointed squarely at her.

"Oh hello," said Clara, instinctively holding up her hands either side of her face. She noticed the others around the table holding doing the same. Sky was still asleep in Kodey's arms as he was standing up, his left arm raised. Clara decided this was a fight or flight moment, she thought what the Doctor would do in this situation, knowing the answer. He would talk his way out.

"I must say I am very disappointed in you, Barry," he said, "we gave you enough opportunities to turn yourself in, you didn't and your little friend," he sneered, "unfortunately had to be let go."

Clara walked very slowly down the remaining two steps stand at the end of the table. "So which one are you then?" Clara asked with more confidence than she was feeling.

"What are you doing?" whispered Leon to her right.

"I beg your pardon?" he narrowed his eyes, retraining the gun.

"I said, which one are you then? Which letter are you?" Clara tilted her head, still holding up her hands. "I know it's not Victor," she mused, "you look like Papa to me, am I right?" she pointed and winked at him cheekily.

"You will come with me," the grey haired man said, the gun still, unimpressed.

Clara looked around her surroundings trying to work out her options. "No?" she paused, shuffling to her left, "OK, what other letters sound like men's names?" She cursed herself for leaving the shotgun on the floor outside the platform, it would have been useful as a defence.

"I will not ask you again," the grey haired man stated loudly, "you... will... come with me."

Clara thought out loud, "Al... Bra... Charlie," she said slowly, "is it Charlie?" she looked towards the ceiling at a sprinkler head above her, pausing as she thought through the rest of the alphabet, "Mike? Or... Oscar?" She stepped forwards towards him.

"Well," the man said, "aren't you... very well informed?"

"Oh yeah," said Clara smugly, "so don't leave us all in suspense, which one are you?"

He scratched his chin with his left hand, obviously beginning to get impatient. "Will it shut you up if I tell you?"

"Possibly," Clara sassed back, smirking.

"Charlie," he said through gritted teeth. "Now, Barry, you will come with me," he creased his eyebrows, not faltering the grip on the black handgun.

"Who's Barry?" asked Clara. "Don't see any Barrys around here," she paused before shouting loudly to the ceiling, "Barry? There's a man here who wants you to go with him... Sorry, I think Barry's just popped out, or you've been had. Do I really look like a Barry? Honestly."

"Darling, give it up," Charlie said, aggravated, "we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"I'm not coming with you, I am not giving you any money and I am certainly not going to be a part of anything that is potentially going to murder eight hundred million people," Clara paused for breath, "so you can do what you want, but I am staying here." Clara lowered her arms and folded them in defiance.

"I will shoot you, you know," Charlie moved three paces towards her, "there is so much more at stake here than you can even imagine."

"Like what?" Clara said, arms folded. "You're the Anti-Greed Alliance and you just happen to have turned up in the universe's biggest shopping centre on their busiest day demanding money off innocent people, forgive me if I'm wrong but it doesn't take a degree in rocket science to see what you're-"

"Be quiet!" Charlie shouted tightening his grip on the gun.

"Make me," Clara tested him, sighing exaggeratedly, "because if you were going to kill me you would have done it already, I mean you came close with those black dots but aside from a chunk of hair missing-"

Charlie discharged the gun at the ceiling silencing her. A few small nuggets of concrete fell down in front of him, followed by a large amount of dust shortly afterwards.

"You will give us the money. Bring the spectacles with you. We have an appointment with your bank manager," he stated.

"Sorry, what was that? I wasn't listening," Clara joked, she had heard the Doctor use this line many times, "I still have ringing in my ears from the gunshot." She smiled as confidently as she could muster, she had to continue thinking she was going to win.

Trudi appeared to her left, standing three or four stairs up. "I heard a guns-" she stopped, putting her hands up, immediately realising what was happening. "Oh," she cowered.

Charlie narrowed his eyes impatiently, "I can make you."

"Oh yeah?" Clara asked loudly, "You and what army?" She had heard that in a film once and had always wanted to say it. She looked playfully around with her arms folded.

There were footsteps behind her on the platform, a loud metallic clicking followed by a pressure of something hard placed on the back of her head.

"This army," said a female voice behind her.

Clara swallowed heavily, holding her arms up, knowing there was no way to escape now. "Of course," Clara sighed. "I should have known."

"Roo?" said Leon quietly behind her. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Roo snapped back sarcastically holding the shotgun flush against the back of Clara's head.

"Please don't tell me you're... I've known you for ten years... no..." Leon faltered. "How could you do this to me? Ten years, Roo!" he pleaded angrily. "I interviewed you, I got you this job!" he cried out.

"Ten years looking at scrolling numbers Leon," Roo said, "watching people spend money to their hearts content when I take home a pittance. I'm sick of it."

"What, so you decide to join the AGA?" Flack added. "Way to go Roo, well done," he breathed.

"I always knew there was something off about her," Trudi said quietly.

"Shut up, Trudi," Roo snapped.

"After all I've done for you," Leon tried to reason with her, "this is how you repay me." He sounded like he was about to cry.

"So what are you people, thirty second century Robin Hoods or what?" Clara asked them both. "What are you going to do with all the money? Give it to the poor?" she said sarcastically, laughing. "All the poor people are probably in here buying things at half the price they were twelve hours ago!" Clara kept her hands up.

"Robin Hood?" Charlie laughed. "Is that what you think this is, darling? You cannot compare what we are doing to some fairytale."

"No, I'm sure I can't and believe me, you will never live up to the real thing," Clara said. "I met him you know, he gave me an archery lesson and I was almost Maid Marion until a friend of mine tracked her down." She reeled off the information to distract her from what was happening.

"What are you talking about?" snapped Roo, moving around to the front of Clara, holding the barrel of the shotgun against her ribs. "You were almost... Maid Marion? Please, don't make me laugh."

"Oh yeah, I suppose that if you are going to kill me I probably should mention that me and the woman you released out of the airlock are also able to travel in time," Clara said.

"What-" said Kodey behind her.

"What-" said Francis at the same time.

"You can," Roo laughed immediately, repositioning the gun, "travel in time. I have never heard anything so ridiculous in my life!"

"Really?" Leon reacted a moment after.

"No way!" said Flack.

"How has this not come up in the last eight hours?" asked Francis.

"So," Roo tried to control her laughter, "why don't you just time travel yourself away... Captain Oswald?"

Clara had dealt with enough unruly children at school to effortlessly deflect any back chat. "It doesn't quite work like that," she said loudly, "but then I guess you'll never find out."

"So tell me then," Charlie said patronisingly, "if you're from the future, what happens?"

"I'm actually from the past," Clara corrected him loudly, "I was last in London, in November 2015. As for what happens," she decided to lie, thinking if she was going to have any chance of them helping her it was probably best not to say she knew what happened, "I don't know, I haven't seen the future. Needless to say, if you keep me alive I could be very useful."

"Your friend said that too," smirked Charlie, "and look what happened to her, we let her out of an airlock, what makes you think we won't do the same to you?"

"Nothing," Clara acknowledged, she couldn't see a way out but was not going to go down without a fight. She held up her hands, pausing. "But," she pointed at the ceiling with her right index finger, "if you shoot me, you get no money, no sunglasses, well, you'll get them but they'll be effectively useless because they only work when I use them-"

Charlie shot his gun up to the ceiling again to get her attention, a few larger rocks of concrete fell behind him, out of view. "Please stop with all of the theatrics," he shouted, "we are wasting time. You are coming with me right now." A collection of dust floated down, accompanied by a long unsettling creaking noise, a loud snap and large amount of debris falling from above. Charlie indicated her with the gun, brushing dust off his jacket with his left hand, "we are leaving."

Roo stepped down from the platform to the floor, holding the shotgun at arm's length, directing Clara forward. "Let's go, Captain." She wiped dust from her eyes with her left hand, taking five or six steps backward as she did.

Clara walked down off the platform resigned, still holding up her hands, looking at the ceiling, freezing when she realised a plume of light was streaming in and something bad was about to happen. "Everyone! Get down! Now!" she shouted loudly at the rest of the group as she quickly threw herself onto the floor of the platform, covering her head.