Chapter 9: The Wenley Moor Solution
Torchlight played upon the walls, casting flickering shadows that alternately lengthened and shrank depending upon how the Silurian moved his hand. He watched the dance of light with an absent-minded expression, ignoring for a moment the threat that Morka held over his head. There had to be a way. There had to be something that he could do. Something, anything, that could stop this.
He heard, as if from a great distance, a muffled sound that seemed akin to weapons fire. Weapons fire? He focused on the tiny sound, tuning out the sound of the flames, Morka's breath, and the rush of blood through his body.
Yes. There it was again.
Weapons fire. Not just any weapons, either. It was not a sonic blaster. It was a projectile-weapon. And, unless he missed his guess, that was the signal that the cavalry had arrived. He knew those guns.
It was UNIT. Had to be. How Rose and Jack had managed to get hold of UNIT was beyond him, but it was there. Unmistakable in its sharpness.
His lips stretched into a satisfied smile. "Do you hear that sound, Morka? That is the sound of an empire collapsing. Your empire."
The Silurian closed his eyes, communing – he assumed – with the others of his race. When Morka opened his eyes again, he hissed under his breath, his movements sharp and angry. What have you done? Charlob is dead. More of my people are being attacked. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
The words jolted through his mind and he staggered at the onslaught. Raw synapses flared with pain and agony in the mental scream's wake. "I'VE DONE NOTHING! Don't you see? You did it all yourself."
It is time. Morka turned on his heel and left the room.
He knew where the Silurian was heading. He knew what was about to happen.
He had to get out.
He had to get out now.
Morka had taken the light with him, leaving him in darkness. No matter. He had the sonic screwdriver. Strange, come to think of it. Why hadn't he been searched? He could've carried a weapon. He could've done a lot of things, but Morka had not even bothered to check him over.
He was a new man. But Morka did not seem to care.
It was probably part of the megalomaniac psyche. Morka had beaten a version of himself once, after all. Might've gotten cocky. Or something. Shrugging off the thought, he thumbed on the sonic screwdriver. Holding the device between his teeth, he began to feel the walls, the floor, and the bars. There had to be a weak spot. There had to be a way out of this mess before Morka released the plague.
Nothing.
No cracks. No seams. Nothing to indicate another hidden passage or a loose bar. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. There had to be something.
Wait.
He had fallen through the ceiling to get to this particular vacation spot. Maybe, if there was nothing on the ground, he could just go up. He tilted his head and cast the light from his screwdriver on the roof. Ah-ha. There it was. Now all he had to do was somehow manage to brace himself between the wall and the bars to reach it. Ignoring, of course, the painful ache in his ankle while doing so.
Now he realised his problem.
He had missed his calling in life.
He should've been an acrobat.
Naachtun had become a war zone. Artillery fired from all around her, punctuating the sounds of the jungle with their rapid retorts. The soldiers were scared. She could see it in their eyes, in the way they held their weapons, and in the way they fired erratically at every movement. Ancient stone exploded into tiny fragments with projectile impacts at the feet of the advancing wave of Silurians.
In her mind, the sense of intrusion began to grow. She was being hunted. They all were.
No.
She shoved the thought aside. She was better than that. It was not going to get the better of her this time. This time she was strong. This time she had Jack. This time she was going to rescue the Doctor.
She looked past the oncoming aliens to the pyramid. That was her goal. The Doctor was still in there, he still needed her, and she'd had enough. Was fed up with waiting. Was fed up with sitting to one side while the others fought her battles for her.
No.
Now it was her turn. She had to get to the Doctor. He needed her, and she was not ready to deal with the loss of the man she loved for the second time. No choice. She did not bother to tell Jack her intentions. She had barely decided before her feet moved for her, dodging red Silurian beams and friendly fire.
She had one goal.
The pyramid.
And from there, the Doctor.
What the hell did she think she was doing?
He had looked away from her for just one second – and only one – to aim at one of the Silurians and squeeze off a shot. The next moment, she was gone. Running through the battlefield, dodging bullets and Silurians, at a reckless pace.
He was going to kill her.
Oh, he knew what she was planning. He had planned it himself, but not until the crossfire had died down. Now he had no choice. Sparing a brief, "See you in hell," to the Brigadier, he was off.
She should've waited for him. She should've thought about it before she ran through a battlefield. He couldn't protect her out here. How could he? The crossfire was far too thick for his liking, and as he dodged the blasts he moved too close to one of the Silurians. It growled, and, lifting a clawed hand, it took a swipe at his undefended right side.
That was when it happened. That one crystal clear moment wherein his senses were enhanced with the battle. He saw everything. Every movement, every breath, every gesture the Silurian made. He could anticipate it. He danced to the side and, a moment later, the creature collapsed to the ground from UNIT fire.
Rose.
He spotted her just as she began to climb the pyramid. She wanted to get to the Doctor. So did he, but he was not the one taking foolish risks. She should've waited.
No matter. What was done was done. Now was the time for action.
Throwing caution to the winds, he lengthened his pace into a sprint. Somehow, he managed to cross the battlefield without further incident. Now all he had to do was follow her up the pyramid, avoid friendly fire, and be able to kill her – well, give her a talking to at least – without running out of breath or injuring himself.
Simple.
The ascent took far less time than he had remembered. However, he knew that fear – fear for Rose, fear for the Doctor, and even fear for himself – had lent his feet additional speed. When he reached the top, he found Rose searching the walls of the temple.
"Damnit, Rose, what the hell did you think you were doing? You could've been killed!" Anger had replaced his earlier fear and he knew that the emotion laced his tone.
He was somewhat gratified when he saw her flinch. "The Doctor needs me." Her voice was quiet as she replied, but she did not apologise for her actions.
Of course she didn't. If he thought about it, he was mostly angry because she had thought of it first. "So do I."
"I know. Believe me, I know. But the Doctor...Jack, he needs us an' I can't just let 'im stay wherever he is, injured or perhaps dying, without me." She turned away from him to scratch against the wall, tracing the outline of what appeared to be a hidden entrance.
He wanted to tell her that he wasn't strong enough to deal with both of them – Rose and the Doctor – injured, or dying. That was why he was angry. It was fear. However, he told her nothing. Now was not the time. "Me either."
Jack gently pushed her aside as he applied his greater strength to the door. It took a few minutes for him to prise away the stone slab, but once it was gone it revealed a tunnel that disappeared into blackness.
He no longer had his carryall with him – that had been confiscated by the Silurians – nor did he have the means to light their way down the tunnel. He was about to mention both facts to her when she held something out to him.
In her hands was a slender flashlight. He shot her a questioning look and she shrugged. "Thought I might need it. 'Fore I got into trouble with the cenote and the Brigadier had to save me, that is."
"Trouble with a cenote?" He arched an eyebrow at her as he turned on the penlight. In his other hand he held the pistol thoughtfully provided by the Brigadier.
"Yeah. Decided I wanted to be a bit more like the Doctor today, I guess. It forgot to leave out the 'Closed for Business' sign." Rose grinned.
He shook his head. "So that's it. When you follow me, keep one of your hands on my ankle." Without waiting for another reply from her, he got to his hands and knees and crawled through the entrance. The tunnel was a bit tight, especially for his broad shoulders, but he was able to move with relative ease. In the brightness cast by the penlight, he could see evidence of earlier passages – both by the Doctor and by something with clawed feet.
Great.
It would be just his luck to have a toothy dinosaur with dinner on its mind to be in the same tunnel as him.
Wait a moment. He aimed the penlight at the floor. Indications of the Doctor's passage had come to an abrupt halt, as if there were… Ah. Of course. He could barely see the thin lines that indicated the presence of a trap door.
The Doctor had fallen into a trap.
Why did that not surprise him?
Shaking his head, he searched for the trigger. It would be a loose stone on the floor or on the wall. Something not so obvious to a careless passer-by. And there it was. Inlaid into the wall was a stone that was just barely off-colour with the rest of the tunnel. That must be it.
"Rose, move back a little. I'm about to trigger a trap door and if I've misjudged how big it is, I don't want you to fall in," he whispered over his shoulder.
Her hand squeezed his calf in acknowledgement and a faint shuffle from behind told him she was obeying his instructions. Well, no time like the present.
He activated the trap door. As the stone floor dropped away, he peered downward to see the Doctor's grinning face. Though he knew that his lover lived, to see him, grinning like nothing was wrong, was shocking.
"Blimey! Jack! I was wondering when you'd show up. Brought the cavalry, too, I see. Well, don't just stand – or kneel – or crouch there looking at me. Give us a hand up."
Shaking himself out of his shock, he reached downward and grasped the Doctor's wrists. Several heaves, and whispered instructions to Rose, later, he managed to haul the Time Lord into the tunnel.
With their faces merely inches apart, he could not help himself. He moved forward just enough to press his lips against the Doctor's in a brief, hard kiss. When he pulled away, his friend looked somewhat dazed. "Don't ever do that again."
At least the other man had the good grace to appear somewhat sheepish. However, the expression changed abruptly, as if something had just come to mind that was far more important. "Jack, we've got to move, and quickly. Time's running out."
"Right." He turned his head to look over his shoulder. "Rose, head out. The Doctor and I'll be right behind you."
As they began to move, he realised that there was another noise in the tunnels. Not the soft scrapes of their movement, but something far more sinister.
Wait.
He knew that sound.
Click, shuffle, scrape, click.
It was the sound of claws against the stone. The tunnel was too small for a Silurian. Something else was in the tunnel with them.
"Move!" he ordered, keeping a firm grip on the Doctor as he doubled his pace. They had to get out. The creature was coming.
Click, shuffle, scrape, click, clickety-click.
The cadence of the creature's movement increased in tempo. It was running. Abruptly, he found himself in the open air of the temple. He pulled the Doctor outside and in the dim light he could see the eerie glowing eyes of the dinosaur that approached them.
The Time Lord had the same idea as he did. Their hands closed over the stone that had covered the secret entrance. They heaved.
The dinosaur was closer.
Click, shuffle, scrape, click, clickety-click.
The stone moved.
Click, shuffle, scrape, click, click, click.
The entrance was almost closed.
Click, shuffle, scrape, click, clickety-click.
The tunnel entrance was sealed. A loud thud echoed in the temple and the stone shuddered beneath their grip. They were safe.
For now.
"No time," the Doctor said and grabbed their hands. With a grin, he told them, "Run!"
So they did.
Or, rather, they tried. The Doctor took two steps before his pace slowed. He winced, favouring his foot, and Jack cursed himself for not remembering. Of course! Had it only been that morning when the Doctor had almost fallen into the cenote?
His friend had said time was of the essence. There really was only once choice for moving fast, especially given the Time Lord's injuries. Ignoring the sudden indignant protest, he hefted the Doctor over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.
Now they ran. Down the steps and into the battle. Past Silurians and UNIT soldiers locked in hand-to-hand combat. Through the crossfire of red beams and bullets. To the Brigadier, where he carefully set down the Doctor.
When he was shot an aggravated look, he shrugged. "You said time was running out."
The Doctor shook his head before turning his attention to the UNIT officer. "Brigadier! Good to see you. It really is like school reunion week, isn't it? First Morka, now you. Who's next? Did you bring Liz or Jo with you? Eh, don't answer that. First things first and next things next."
Alistair's expression took on the aspect of the long-suffering. "Ah, Doctor. Nice to see you, too. And in the thick of things, as usual."
The other man's smile faded as he looked at the Brigadier. "We have a problem, Alistair. Morka – the leader of this merry little band of Silurians – has a plague that can wipe out every human on this planet."
"You're sure...wait, of course you're sure." Alistair scratched his chin thoughtfully. Even though the battle was still raging around them, in this small area it seemed that they were in the eye of the storm. "Do we have a chance of stopping him before he releases the plague?"
"I don't know."
And then the storm returned. The sound of bullets ricocheting, the screams of the dying around them, and the growl and hiss of the oncoming Silurians combined into a violent cacophony of sound that overwhelmed the normal jungle noises.
He knew what the Doctor meant, now.
Time was running out.
Alistair glared at the pyramid, his hand clenching and unclenching around the barrel of his rifle. The fear was omnipresent now. The sight of the Silurians, even after all these years, still astounded him. That they could exist – that they could still exist – was amazing in and of itself. Yet if the Doctor's words were true, and he had no doubt that they were, he had no choice.
It was Wenley Moor all over again.
He pulled out his radio and hit the press-to-talk button. "Harding, Phoenix. ETA to home, over."
"Phoenix, Harding. ETA two minutes." The tinny voice crackled from interference. Good. They were almost here.
No choice. "Harding, Phoenix. Prep the Moor solution."
"Roger."
And that was it. On his order, Naachtun would become nothing more than a charred crater. To protect the human race, there was no choice.
"What is the Moor solution?" the woman, Elena Morales, asked. Of course, he had forgotten about her and the tribal leader as he had considered the Doctor's words.
"Something permanent. Doctor, I..."
"What do you mean, permanent?" Elena grasped his arm, and he looked at her hand with disdain.
"Just what I said, Miss Morales. Now release me." Civilians. Some he had use for – Jack and Rose – but this one had started to get on his nerves. This was despite her usefulness as a translator.
"Not until you tell me what that means!" she replied, giving his arm a firm shake.
"Ni cra malik icun-a Tan-le cranik!" Atan contributed, brandishing his spear threateningly.
"Would you all be QUIET?" The Doctor's last word was shouted as he looked at them all. "Thanks for that. Miss Morales, is it? I'm the Doctor. Nice to meet you. Now, have you ever seen the end of the world?"
She looked at him with a dumbfounded expression on her face. He was unsurprised. This version of the Doctor seemed to have that affect on people. Then again, most of his incarnations tended to do that.
"No? Well, you're about to unless you let Alistair's arm go. Now calm down your spear-wielding friend over there and let's get on with saving the world, yeah?"
Elena's hand loosened and he wrenched his arm away from her with an annoyed look. Civilians. "Doctor, do you know where Morka has gone?"
Before the Time Lord could respond, a voice carried over the battlefield. "DOCTOR! BEHOLD YOUR CONSEQUENCES!"
He turned, as did his companions, to see a Silurian – whom he assumed was Morka – brandishing a large cylinder over his head in front of the pyramid.
The plague.
It had to be.
Another day, another battle, another megalomaniac bent upon world domination. This time it was a plague. Strange, even through the fear, that she regarded this situation as a matter of course. She had almost lost the Doctor. She had almost lost Jack. However, they had made it.
Even now, surrounded by UNIT soldiers and facing who could only be Morka holding a canister full of certain death over her head, they had made it. She glanced at the Doctor's face and noticed Jack, standing to his other side, doing the same. To others, it would appear expressionless, but she could see the tiny twitches of his muscles as he thought furiously as to what to do next. She noticed the lines of pain around his eyes but that pain was overwhelmed by his determination.
"Cease fire!" the Brigadier snapped, and all the UNIT soldiers within hearing range stopped. That was good. A stray bullet could puncture the cylinder and release the plague.
Now it was up to them – or, rather, the Doctor. "Seems you've got me over a barrel, Morka." His voice somehow managed to carry, despite the heavy breathing and soft hissing of the Silurians.
"EVERYTHING YOU CARE FOR, DOCTOR! EVERYTHING DIES!" The Silurian was mad. He had to be. All talk and no action. Either that or he did not really mean it. Even after everything that had happened she suspected that he was looking for a way out.
The Doctor's voice was cold as he replied. "You've heard my warning, Morka. You know the consequences."
The Silurian snarled as his claws closed over the cylinder and he began to twist. She could see thin vapours escaping from the seal. He was doing it. He was going to kill them all.
Then she heard the Brigadier's voice. "Fire."
A loud thump echoed through the forest and a strange whistling sound echoed overhead. She saw a flash of a missile impact against the side of the pyramid and a heartbeat later Morka, Naachtun, and the entire battlefield were consumed in flames.
As the rumble of the explosion faded away into the sounds of a roaring fire, the Doctor turned from the rubble. His expression was unreadable as he moved away from the ruins. In his eyes she could see shades of his former self. "That's what sort of man I am, Morka. No second chances."
"Doctor?" she asked quietly as she stepped to his side and entwined her fingers with his. "You all right?"
He smiled faintly but he chose not to answer in words. Instead, he pulled her unresisting form into a hug. She felt the frantic beating of his hearts begin to slow as he murmured something unintelligible into her hair. When he finally pulled away, it was only enough so that he could look into her eyes. "I will be."
She smiled as she leaned up to press a gentle kiss against his lips. "Yeah," she agreed as she rested her forehead against his. "You will."
She knew how this affected him. She knew how, even when it was inevitable, he regretted the deaths of others. Even the Silurians. Even this Morka.
That was what sort of man he was.
And it was only one small part of why she loved him.
To be concluded...