Jo came to a sudden stop as she rounded the corner, causing Lucie to nearly crash into her.
"Oi, try some brake lights, NYPD Blue," she quipped. Then she realised why Jo had stopped so suddenly. "Woah, blimey! You blokes don't mess around, do ya?"
It seemed that both ends of the street had been blocked off with barricades and police cars, with uniformed officers redirecting traffic. The street itself was a mess of standard police cars, SWAT vehicles and other tactical vehicles that looked vaguely militaristic. Jo couldn't identify those ones, but they seemed to have some sort of insignia resembling a globe with a pair of wings.
Jo flashed her badge at the young officer at the barricade and both she and Lucy were allowed to step through. There were personnel crawling all over the place, some in uniforms, others in tactical gear. Thankfully, this meant that someone in plain clothes would be sure to stand out.
"Hanson!" Jo called out after she spotted her partner in his cheap off-the-rack suit. He looked frustrated, standing back with his hands on his hips.
It took him a moment, but eventually he saw Jo and Lucie jogging towards him and met them halfway with a look of relief on his face.
"Oh, thank God you're here," he said, "things have been getting pretty crazy round here. First, I swear to God almighty above, that I saw that freakin' blue phone booth from before just floating over my head."
Jo cringed as she shot a sidelong glance at Lucie, who was struggling not to laugh.
"Then, 'bout, I don't know, two minutes ago SWAT showed up, and thirty seconds later all these army bozos followed suit."
Jo looked confused. "Who called them in?"
Hanson shrugged. "Got me. But they don't look like regular army, or National Guard for that matter. I'm thinking they must be some kind of special ops or something. But nobody's telling me a damn thing. They say they're taking control of the situation and that the NYPD will only be needed in an advisory and supportive capacity." He scoffed. "Typical government types, think us boys in blue aren't good for anything besides directing traffic. So now I've got SWAT just standing around with their hands up their asses, waiting to see how the soldier-boys are going to play this."
Jo looked around at the soldiers, Hanson was right, their uniforms didn't look like anything she recognised. Most of the enlisted man were wearing fairly typical black tactical gear, but the officers, while clearly being of a basic western military design, were slightly different to any U.S. uniform Jo had seen, most notably with the presence of red berets. Plus, they all wore that same winged globe insignia.
"Any idea who they are?" Jo asked.
Hanson scratched the back of his head. "Bah, they had some weird name I'd never heard before; one of those acronym kind of things. Sounded like they might be with the U.N. UNIT? Something like that?"
Jo's eyes flashed with realisation, but Lucie beat her to the punch.
"UNIT?" Lucie gasped. "Those are the Doctor's old army buddies or whatever. They're the ones he told us to call if things went sour."
"Well," said Jo, "it looks like they beat us to the punch."
"The Doctor?" Hanson questioned. "Wait, where is that nutjob anyway? How come the blonde's with you and he's not?"
Before Jo could respond, an indignant Lucie stepped up to Hanson and jabbed a finger at his chest.
"Oi, Starskey, the blonde's got a name. And if you talk about me or the Doctor like that again, I'll kick you in the nutjobs."
Hanson looked a little bewildered and took a step back, raising his hands in a placating manner.
"Jeez, OK, sorry," he said.
Suddenly there was commotion as some of the soldiers began unloading heavy artillery the likes of which Jo had never seen before in her life. She noticed that the CO seemed to be a tall, skinny guy in his early fifties - or at least it looked like he was the one dishing out all the orders.
"Look, I'm going to go and see if I can sort all this out. Mike, stay here to liaise with SWAT, Lucie you come with me, we're going to need to fill them in on what's going on and you're the most qualified to do that."
"'Bout time someone noticed that," Lucie said pointedly at Hanson, before walking in the direction of the commanding officer.
Jo gave Hanson a sympathetic look and gripped his shoulder. "Sorry Mike, I promise when all this is over I'll catch you up to speed over a beer. I'm sure as Hell going to need one." With that she was gone and off to catch up with Lucie before the mouthy girl got herself in trouble.
Hanson sighed. "Yeah, well, you're buying!" He called out to her.
When they approached the CO he was standing over a foldout table, looking over what Jo presumed to be plans of the factory. He was flanked by two soldiers in tactical gear – an Asian man and Caucasian woman.
"See if we can set up sonic disruptors here and here," the CO said, pointing to locations on the map, "and tell Ndiaye to be ready with those charges."
"Yes, Sir," the soldiers both saluted before being dismissed.
Now that they were closer, Jo could tell by the stars on his uniform that the CO was a Major General. That was a pretty heavy hitter to have in the midst of a situation like this. He also looked tired and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache.
"I'm sorry Sir, but we need to talk to you," said Jo as she and Lucie approached the table.
"What is it?" The general said absently, before looking up and squinting in confusion. "Hold on, who are you? How did you two get in here?"
"Detective Martinez, NYPD," Jo said as she flashed her badge. "My partner and I uncovered the situation here during the course of a murder investigation. We're the ones who put the call in to SWAT."
"Oh, right, yes," the general said dismissively, before turning his attention back to another document on the table. "Well, thank you, but we've got everything under control now. You and your partner can help with the evacuation if you'd like, other than that would you mind just keeping clear until we can debrief you?"
"Actually Sir, we have some information that-"
"I appreciate that you want to help, Detective," said the general, looking up from his documents, "but I assure you that you've done more than enough. This is a little out of your league, so just feel free to leave this to people who have experience with this sort of thing. Hmm?"
Jo was about to retort, but she was interrupted by Lucie who strode towards the general, pointing at him.
"Listen, Major Toms, you wanna talk about experience? Have any of these blokes ever seen a Dalek before? Have you? Because I have! So, how's about you can it with the condescension and actually listen to what we have to say? Because my best mate's in there with those things and I don't have time to waste trying to explain meself to a bunch a soldier boys."
Jo's mouth went slack, she was sure they were going to get themselves detained by military police. But surprisingly, the general just regarded Lucie with curiosity.
"Daleks? How do you know that name? Who are you exactly?"
"Me? Pfft! I'm Lucie bleedin' Miller, mate. I travel with a bloke called the Doctor and I've seen more Daleks than you've had hot dinners. That's probably not far from the truth actually," she said, eying his slender frame, "aren't you general types meant to be all strong and broad-shouldered? What, they cuttin' back your rations?"
Jo gave Lucie a warning smack on the arm, followed by a look that screamed, 'shut up before you get us thrown in a military detainment camp!'
It hardly seemed to faze the general though. "You're a companion of the Doctor?" he said, a note of hope in his voice.
"Thick as thieves, we are," she said, proudly.
"Jenkins!" called the general, without taking his eyes off of them.
A young, lean male soldier who couldn't have been more than a few years out of high school approached and snapped to attention.
"Sir!"
"Give me the quick reference file on the Doctor and his companions."
"Yes, Sir!" the soldier half-yelled, before fishing a tablet computer out from a pocket in his vest. His gloved fingers danced around the screen for a moment before handing the device to the general.
"Thank you, that'll be all, Private. Dismissed."
Pvt. Jenkins offered another firm salute before turning on his heels and leaving.
Lucie and Jo shared impatient looks as the general flicked through files on the tablet for several moments before pausing and looking up at Lucie.
"Lucie Miller," he said, "companion to at least one incarnation of the Doctor. Born: 31st July, 1988. Original point of contact with the Doctor: 2006. Current location and status: unknown."
"Well, I'm right in front of you," Lucie mumbled, trying not to think about what Jo had said earlier about her having not being seen since 2006.
"Hmm, picture looks to be a match," he said, "although the hair's a different colour." He showed them the picture on the tablet, which featured a candid photo of Lucie with brown hair rather than the usual blonde.
"Well…yeah, I've been known to throw a rinse in once in a while. So sue me."
Ignoring the remark, he offered his hand. "Major-General Layne, pleasure to meet you Miss Miller. And you too, of course, Detective," he hastened to add.
"I wish it were under better circumstances, but yeah, likewise," said Jo.
"Can you identify any of these men as the Doctor?" asked the general as he handed the tablet to Lucie.
Jo looked over Lucie's shoulder as she scrolled through a dozen or so pictures of vastly different men. She'd held her fair share of line-ups before, but there was no way any of those people could be mistaken for the same man.
They varied in age, height, build, nearly every significant characteristic, save for ethnicity, with the majority of them being caucasion. They also all seemed to have a flair for eccentric clothes.
"So, what, you're telling me these blokes are all meant to be the Doctor?" asked Lucie as she scrolled by a curly-haired man with bulging eyes, a toothy smile and a ridiculous scarf.
"As far as we're aware, yes," said the General. "Are you familiar with the concept of regeneration?"
"I think the Doctor might have mentioned it once," she said. "He can change his body when he's about to die, that's the basic gist, yeah?" She smiled and shook her head, "He failed to mention just how ridiculous some of those other bodies have been though." She beamed and took a moment to stare at a few of the photos. "Ooh-hoo, I am going to rib him so hard over the question marks and the technicolour dreamcoat! I mean, this is like looking through a year book, but all the embarrassing fashion choices belong to one person." She laughed, then kept scrolling.
"Great, so time-travel, aliens…now he's a shapeshifter too," said Jo, "I'll add that to today's list of things I just have to accept."
"Aha, here we go!" exclaimed Lucie. "Blimey, he looks a bit older and he's ditched the poncy curls and cravat, but that's definitely him."
Jo examined the photo, she could definitely tell it was the same man, but although he didn't look a great deal older, the signs of age were definitely there. Her first reaction was to think it impossible for someone to look older in a photo than they currently looked (unless it had been Photoshopped), but then she remembered the time travel thing, so she supposed that checked out.
Lucie turned the tablet to show the general the photo in question. He took the tablet back from her, examined it for a moment and nodded. Then he spent a moment scrolling through some text that must have accompanied the photo, before returning the tablet to Pvt. Jenkins.
"Satisfied?" asked Lucie.
"Hmm, yes, it seems to check out. That Doctor hasn't had a great deal of involvement with UNIT, but records seem to indicate that he should be reliable."
Lucie raised an eyebrow. "You sayin' there are versions of the Doctor who aren't reliable?"
"You'd be surprised," he said. "The Doctor is considered UNIT's oldest and greatest ally, but his goals and ideals don't always align with our own. And some of his selves don't play well with a team, if you know what I mean. Anyway, none of that matters, now that we know the Doctor's here, we need to try and adjust our course of action accordingly. Tell me, what is his plan exactly?"
Lucie bit her lip and glanced at Jo. "Ah, between you and me, I don't think he's really got a plan. He sort of just snuck into the factory through the back way and told us to keep anyone from doing anything stupid. We were supposed to call you lot if he wasn't back in an hour, tell you to organise an air strike, but as you can see…" she left the sentence hanging, waving a hand at Gen. Layne.
Gen. Layne let out a sigh and shook his head. "He's one of those ones, eh? Makes it up as he goes along? Why couldn't we have got the one in the Panama hat, he's manipulative, but he's also a master strategist."
"So what are you thinking, General?" asked Jo. "How are we going to play this?"
"We aren't going to do anything. You will be escorted outside of the evacuation zone, while we form a siege formation. We'll give the Doctor his hour, but if no contact can be made by that time, we shall have no choice but to cauterise the area. The Doctor has a protection factor of triple Alpha-1, but the Daleks are a threat level Omega-12, meaning that they cannot be allowed to be let loose."
Lucie crossed her arms. "I don't understand your army gibberish, but I'm not sure I like the sound of that. 'Cauterise the area'? Sounds a lot like you're ready to throw the Doctor under the bus if things go south. Please don't tell me you'd seriously blow the place up with the Doctor still inside? Because I'll tell you now mate, there's no way in Hell I'm gonna let that happen."
The General was about to retort, but a soldier interrupted them.
"Sir, sorry, but there's a man at the police line trying to get in," said the soldier, another young man no more than a few years older than Lucie. "He says he's a medical examiner and he's demanding to speak to a Detective Martinez, Sir."
Jo's head shot up. "Henry? Henry Morgan?"
"Umm, yes ma'am, I think so," said the soldier.
"General, I can vouch for him and I'm sure he could be a huge help to you right now.
"Detective, I really don't see what use a medical examiner is going to be-"
"He's more than a medical examiner," she interrupted, "trust me, Henry sees things that nobody else does. If there's anybody else around here who can think like the Doctor, believe me, it's him."
Gen. Layne sighed and said, fine, I suppose we can use all the help we can get right now. Let me talk to him.
"Thanks, General, you won't regret it," said Jo, as she led him back towards the police line.
What they failed to notice, however, was that Lucie stayed behind. She bit her lip, watching as they disappeared down the alleyway. She looked around at the soldiers and SWAT guys all rushing about, looking over plans, talking into radios, setting up equipment and altogether looking like a bunch of headless chickens. She saw Hanson on the phone, looking stressed out as he paced in circles.
Sod it, she thought. She wasn't going to stick around outside feeling useless while the Doctor was in there alone with a bunch of Daleks, racing against the clock.
She meandered slowly towards the factory, trying not to draw attention to herself. She knew they'd probably have snipers with guns trained on the door, so she slipped down the side of the building, looking for a more discrete way to enter.
One thing was for sure, she was never going to forget her first trip to New York.
The Doctor ran a finger along a railing and examined the dust on his finger. "You know, getting a house keeper in once a week would do wonders for this place."
He was walking along a catwalk that overlooked the factory floor. He'd been sneaking his way around for about twenty minutes now and he'd still not seen hide nor hair of the Daleks. He knew that was technically a good sign, but it also left him feeling uneasy.
"Oh, hello you," he said suddenly, standing up from his crouch to get a better look over the railing. "What have we here?"
Down below was a large, disc-shaped – or rather, saucer-shaped – ship. It was badly damaged, completely falling apart, with great holes blasted in its hull. Despite its condition though, its design was unmistakably Dalek.
"Well now, that wasn't expected," he muttered, as he looked up at the ceiling, which was still very clearly intact. "How did you…ah, of course. Fell from a time war, did you? Makes sense," he said, noting the destruction around the ship; the way machinery had been flattened or blasted away. It was as if the ship had suddenly materialised right there inside the factory and violently displaced all that was around it.
"Falling always looks different when it's multidimensional, doesn't it?" he mused.
Suddenly he heard a creak and felt something shift and before he could register what was happening, the rusted out railing he was leaning against gave way and he found himself hurtling to the floor below. It all happened so quickly, he scarcely had time to make a sound before he hit the floor with a thud and found himself sprawled on the ground, covered with dust and groaning as he nursed his arm.
"Well," he groaned, "could have been worse. I'd hate to have been the one who got taken out by a rusty railing – what a rubbish way to go. I would have regenerated again immediately, after I died of embarrassment."
He slowly clambered to his feet, taking note of all the aches and pains as he went. It didn't seem like anything was broken, but he was definitely going to have a few bruises in the morning.
"Halt!"
He looked up in surprise and then his shoulders slumped. "Oh no, haven't we done this part already?"
Two Daleks emerged from the shadows, the same ones he'd encountered earlier if he wasn't mistaken.
"You are the Doctor! You shall be taken to the Dalek Supreme!"
"Oh, very well then," he said, wincing as he raised his hands. "Go ahead, take me to your leader."
END OF PART TWO