Another few hours of creating Auton soldiers passed, the Mistress supervising while the Master worked on his rather brilliant idea. The only issue the Mistress had with it was that she didn't come up with it herself. Nevertheless, she loved a diabolical plan when she heard one, and the Master had always been good at giving her things she loved.
However, during production, another complication arrived. Mr. Farrel Sr. He'd been called by the late Mr. McDermott who'd been warning him about the Master and the Mistress and what they were doing with his company. Naturally he was none to pleased. But upon hearing about Mr. McDermott's death, he suddenly became rather preoccupied as they stood around the office.
"Dead. He can't be," said Mr. Farrel Sr. in disbelief, as one often did when they found out about a death.
"I'm afraid so, father," replied Mr. Farrel in a factual voice. Rather disconnected from the whole experience, as well he should be.
"Yes…he just sat down and then…suddenly he was gone," said the Master, fabricating sympathy.
"I…can't take it in," said a grief stricken Mr. Farrel Sr. Which was rather handy for the Master and the Mistress, distracting him from his original purpose in coming to the factory.
"Yes, it's very sad," admitted Mr. Farrel, his tone coming off as more inconvenient than depressed.
"What did the doctor say?" Mr. Farrel Sr. asked his son, but the Mistress had foreseen such a question and planted an appropriate response in his head.
"Oh, this and that," said Mr. Farrel with a shake of the head. "A lot of medical mumble. I didn't really understand it myself. Sounded like some sort of a heart attack," he explained with a clear air of uncertainty but with believability. As if he'd actually had this conversation with the doctor, only he didn't understand what had been said.
"Odd. I didn't hear about him having any heart problems," admitted Mr. Farrel Sr. whimsically with a frown, to which his son only shrugged with another saddened head shake.
"Anyway," Mr. Farrel Sr. then said, moving on as he sat himself down behind his old desk. "I suppose it's hardly decent in the circumstances, but I've driven a long way to talk to you, Rex," he said with a stern look to his son.
"Yes father?" Mr Farrel said, suddenly coming off as nervous under his father's gaze. "What about?"
"About the way you seem determined to throw away the years of work I've put into this factory. Now just what is going on here?"
"We're changing our policy, Father, introducing new methods, new products," clarified Mr. Farrel as he stood before his father's desk while the Master and the Mistress watched him. More confident in himself now that he was trying to protect his work with the Time Lords, just as he was supposed to.
"You'll do nothing of the sort!" cut in Mr. Farrel Sr. before his son could get out another word. "You'll carry on the lines I laid down. Or I'll come out of retirement and do the job myself – I'm not past it, you know," Mr. Farrel Sr. declared firmly, before the Master stepped in. Pushing Mr. Farrel aside so that he was now stood solely in front of Mr. Farrel Sr.
"Allow me to explain, Mr. Farrel," the Master said with a polite smile. "The changes that me and my wife have suggested are for the good of the factory. Now you must trust us, there's nothing to worry about…" And then the Master switched gears, repeating himself only this time with his hypnotic stare to back him up. "Nothing to worry about…"
"To…trust you…nothing to worry about…" Mr. Farrel Sr. repeated, as he looked blankly up at the Master's commanding brown eyes. It all seemed to have worked out fine, until Mr. Farrel Sr. suddenly ran his hand down his face, snapping the hypnotic hold the Master had on him.
"There's a great deal to worry about, sir!" Mr. Farrel Sr. then snapped, shaking off the dizziness of the hypnotic experience. "And frankly, the thing that worries me the most is you and your wife's presence here!"
"Why?!" growled the Master angrily, his emotions momentarily getting the better of him, as he reached for his Compressor.
Luckily he had his Mistress to keep him from doing something he might regret, as she stepped up to his side, wrapping herself around his arm in a flirtatious manner. "Now, darling. Let's not do anything to hasty," she cautioned him. He sharply looked to her, ready to shout out her for her defiance. But then he remember she was his Mistress, and her blue eyes calmed him down. He even managed a smile after a short moment, though it was clearly forced.
"You're right, my dear. Do forgive my outburst," he begged, with an apologetic look, to which the Mistress couldn't help but swoon, as she smiled back at him. The Master then turned his attention back to Mr. Farrel Sr., saying, "Congratulations, Mr. Farrel. Usually I can overcome opposition, but your will is exceptionally strong. One might even say, dangerously strong."
Then with an amused chuckle, the Master stepped out of the office. His Mistress still hanging onto his arm, as they made their way back towards their workshop.
"Really, darling, you ought to watch that temper of yours. It always ends up getting us into far to much trouble," pointed out the Mistress as they walked.
"Yes, yes, I know," conceded the Master, as if being lectured too. "Thankfully, I have you to keep me in line though," he added, more happily as they shared a smile. "But we still have to deal with that Mr. Farrel Sr. I must admit, I didn't anticipate finding anyone on this planet whom would be able to fight off my hypnotic powers."
"Well, perhaps if I gave it a shot," suggested the Mistress with a thoughtful, and devious, smile. "After all, there's some things, were a woman's touch is far superior to that of a man's." The Master raised an eyebrow in her direction, but she continued to make her case regardless. "And besides, if we kill him we'll only draw more attention to ourselves, and we still need this factory for now."
"Yes, you're quite right as always my love," admitted the Master, only disappointed by the fact that he wasn't able to complete the job himself. "If you can silence him even for a few hours, that might be all we need," he said with a glance to his Mistress.
"Consider it done," the Mistress said with an eager smile. Giving her Master a kiss, before then making her way out to the main entrance where Mr. Farrel Sr. had parked his car. There, she leaned back against the hood of his car, arms stretched out behind her and waited for the old man to come out.
When he did, it was fair to say he was more than a little taken aback by the position the Mistress was in. "Hello again, Mr. Farrel," greeted the Mistress, the flirtation clear in her voice.
"Mrs-Mrs. Masters," Mr. Farrel Sr. stuttered, red blossoming on his cheeks as he tried to make his way to his car without looking at the Mistress. Unfortunately for him, the Mistress was fast and quickly slid from the car and positioned herself in front of him.
At that point he had no choice but to look her in the eye, and that was when she had him. He might have been able to fight off the Master's control, but he'd been angry and riled up then. Now Mr. Farrel Sr. was more cool, more collected, and with the combination of the Mistress's seduction and hypnotic abilities, he'd soon be putty in her hands. In fact, he was already struggling to move, to break away away from the Mistress's magnetic blue eyes as she smiled teasingly at him.
"You know, Mr. Farrel, you seem like a smart man."
"I-I am…" replied Mr. Farrel, lips trembling as he struggled to say the words.
"But even the smartest man can struggle when it comes to woman," the Mistress pointed out, as she stepped into Mr. Farrel Sr.'s personal space. "Just as you are now," she then pointed out. The words becoming an instant reality for him.
"Yes," he admitted just as shakily as before.
"You feel weak in the knees don't you," the Mistress said, nodding her head until Mr. Farrel Sr. nodded in agreement. "You heart is pounding just at the thought of me. And you know, deep down, that you would do anything to please me."
"I must…please you…" repeated Mr. Farrel Sr.
"Yes," purred out the Mistress in success. "And do you know what would please me most of all? If you left the running of your company to your son – Or better still, myself and my husband."
"B-But…But I…can't…" Mr. Farrel Sr. said, voice shaking as if there were an earthquake. The Master was right, he was strong willed, but the Mistress was stronger and need only tighten her hold to secure her desires.
"Uh-uh-uh," taunted the Mistress with a grin, as she wagged her finger back and forth, distracting him from his resistance and bringing his focus back to her. "You can, Mr. Farrel. You can because it will please me. And you want to please me don't you?"
"Yes…" agreed Mr. Farrel Sr. as if everything was becoming clearer to him.
"That's right. You will no longer worry about your company. For you know it is safely in me and my husband's hands. Think of it as your gift to me," suggested the Mistress.
"My gift to you," agreed Mr. Farrel Sr. cementing the belief in his mind.
"And it's very much appreciated," said a satisfied Mistress, before planting a sealing kiss on the old lips of Mr. Farrel Sr. "Now, time for you to get in your car and drive away."
"I will drive away," droned on Mr. Farrel Sr. as he got into his car and started the engine.
"And don't forget," the Mistress called after him, bending down so she could see him through the passenger side window. "Your company is in safe hands." And with that, Mr. Farrel Sr. drove off, believing all to be well and that Mr. McDermott had been a fool to call him in. Everything was under control and he was pleased with the way the Colonel and wife were running his company.
He even looked back in his review mirror, to see the Mistress smiling and waving, and happily waved back, before turning onto the road and leaving it all behind.