15.

"This isn't working!" Blick was saying in frustration, not for the first time. He slammed down a section of what looked like exhaust pipe except for the silver-black brush nodules that extended into it in a spiral pattern. "The only contraption that's at all like what we were told to look for is too small. It must be in multiple parts."

"Then you'll need to find them," Gorringe said. He was looking over what few scraps of paper they'd found under the seats, but none of them made any sense to him.

"What about the boot?" asked Hodges. "Something bigger might fit there. Any luck?"

Higgs looked up from where he was prying at it with a set of picks. "I can't even get the boot to open. It isn't an ordinary lock. Maybe we should just cut around it. I wish it had come with keys."

"Did you take a look through that handbag we found?"

In answer, Blick picked it up and unceremoniously dumped out the purse on a workbench, pawing through the contents. "Not much money," he noted, picking up a perfume atomizer and sniffing it curiously. "Hey, look at this," he held up a small ring of keys and a UNIT pass.

"Forget the keys. She'll have changed her locks by now anyway. Unless one of them unlocks the boot. Give me that," Gorringe said, gesturing at the pass.

Blick tried the keys on the roadster's boot as the others considered the pretty girl whose picture looked out at them from the identification. "Josephine Grant," Gorringe read. "She must've been with the old man. Works for the same outfit. Keep this, could be useful."

Hours later they still had nothing definite to show, though the little yellow roadster was definitely looking the worse for the wear, especially after Higgs had hit on the idea that something might be hidden under or inside the seats.

"This is no use. We'll have to get that inventor chap to help us," Hodges said, rubbing at a grease smear on his shirt. "He made it work before."

Higgs straightened up from where he'd been handing tools to Blick through the bottom of the cut-open boot. "I thought you were an inventor," he said.

Hodges grinned briefly. "I can make you some right dandy bombs, but not one of these."

"Well, Blick there is a bona-fide auto mechanic and he can't do it either."

"Not a force-field anyway," Blick said from where he was underneath the carriage. "But this here buggy sure has some strange things going on with it. Custom things, bits I've never even seen before." He wrenched something and there was a clunk as a piece came loose in his hand. He set a bolt aside and passed it out to them. "Like that. What the dickens is it, you think?"

They considered the smallish metal box with multiple wires coming out from it and a tube at either end. "This ain't the force-field thing, is it?"

"Naw, too small. But there's lots of stuff like that scattered around. I know how to make a car run, ask anyone, but I've don't get half what this inventor bloke is doing." He scooted back out from underneath. "The government's aliens must have been a part of it somewhere along the way. There's at least three or four big hunks of wire and stuff down here that I don't even want to touch. Look, we're gonna need him to show us. If we can't even get it out of the car, we'll never make it work."

"You think he would help us?" Higgs wondered.

"Not after we pinched his car."

"We could tell him it's for a good cause," Higgs suggested.

"Why tell him anything?" Hodges said. He looked at the little box with its wires again. "But you know, he'd help if we paid him enough, wouldn't he? Never a man been born that doesn't like the sound of good money. He can always put this old car back together, why, Blick here can even say he'll help him do it."

"Yeah, sure, I'd help," Blick nodded. He rubbed his hands with a blackened rag. "But we haven't got money. This bloke works for the government. He probably gets paid pretty good already."

Hodges spat. "Government," he muttered. "Some government. Aristos selling off the common man..."

"We do have money," Mr. Gorringe's smooth voice came from the office door, where he'd apparently been listening in. "You've forgotten the tip money."

They looked at one another. "What if that ginger chap, the Jones one, shows up to collect?" asked Higgs.

Mr. Gorringe's voice remained unruffled. "Then we'll deal with him as needed. That field device must work for us, the alien infestation of our government must be ended, and this," he waved a fat wad of notes, "is the language every man speaks."

--

The Doctor swept into Lethbridge-Stewart's office in a swirl of burgundy and black velvet. "What is this letter you've received?"

The Brigadier held up the paper he'd been looking over at his desk. "Typed on plain paper. No return address, and posted from a central location…"

"The envelope…"

"Wearing gloves." the Brigadier finished.

The Doctor made an impatient noise and pulled up a chair. "Well, they've certainly been thinking things through then. What does it say?"

"What I wondered was how they knew where to post it."

"Jo's purse was in the car, they could have lifted it from her pass," the Doctor said, waving a hand dismissively. "Or that ginger lot told them. It doesn't matter." He reached over and plucked it from the Brigadier's hand.

"So," he said scanning it over. "They have some sort of 'cause' that they think the future of Britain hinges on and they know the car had a force-field capability. The latter is not a surprise, the former almost disappointingly predicatable."

"And…" the Brigadier prompted.

"And they've apparently bitten off more than they can proverbially chew," he said and had to smile at that. "Bessie's got them derailed. I wonder who put up the money?"

"So. If we take them up on their offer it would have a certain advantage in that it would locate your missing vehicle."

"Yes, but promising to help a nest of crazed visionaries build a force-field generator using my own car for heavens knows what purpose is hardly an acceptable situation. For all I know they want to immobilize the Queen in a bubble."

"At least we now know they are 'crazed visionaries,' as they say, rather than a common criminal ring."

"And being visionaries they most likely have a certain anathema to anyone who can be purchased for money. They like to think all men can be bought, but are invariably disappointed when it proves true. I expect it would be best to reject this monetary offer, which should force them to up the ante."

"We could find out not only their location, but what their motives are."

"Any group bold enough to not only understand something of the nature of force-fields but to also attempt to obtain one themselves would be worth keeping tabs on."

"Agreed," the Brigadier said. He tapped the empty envelope on his blotter. "I'd certainly like to know what they were planning on doing with it."

"Very well. We'll reject this monetary offer. I'll sign the letter myself, seeing as they've addressed it to me. Hm, they'll send a taxi to pick up the reply."

"Obviously expecting a positive response."

"It shall go to them by taxi then."

--

In the small warehouse office, Mr. Gorringe looked up from the brief letter in his hands, his face hard. "Doctor Smith refuses."

"He won't help us? But that was good money we offered," Higgs said with surprise.

"Told you he wouldn't after we pinched his car," Blick muttered.

Gorringe tipped his swivel chair back and forth, considering the letter again. "We know the real reason behind the refusal."

"Yeah," Hodges said. "The aristocracy isn't about to let one of their inventor types help out the likes of us. Treat the common man like dirt."

"Do you think the aristocracy really knows what we want him for? What if the aliens hear of it?" Higgs asked.

"We can't let them stop us," Hodges said firmly.

"Yes," Gorringe agreed. "I agree. Though I don't think the aristocracy will be telling their puppet masters anything just yet. They like to think they are still in control. But if our plan is to go through, we need that device working, and soon. We'll need to force his hand."

Hodges considered. "The car and the money weren't enough. How about that girl?"

"The one from the purse?" Higgs asked. "You mean, catch her?"

"Yes," Gorringe said. "Don't you see? She was with him in the car, in his personal vehicle. They must have been going somewhere together, the two of them; some sort of working relationship, or more. A coworker at the very least." He considered a moment.

"Kidnapping's a sight up from just pinching a car," Blick ventured.

"And it'll be nothing by the time we're through," Hodges said. "Right?"

"Very well," Gorringe said. "All of you leave off on that car until you have that Doctor Smith on hand to help. For all you know you've already ruined it. No, no protests. I can tell you don't have any idea what you're even looking at. Take our car, and go set a watch for her. Outside the walls of that place. I trust you to be discrete."

"What do we do when we see her?" asked Higgs, a little nervously.

"When you see her come out, follow her. And when the opportunity presents itself, bring her back here. I'll arrange a place to keep her. Take that military pass with you, so you can be sure you have the right girl. Now go."

--

The lab was finally quiet, the Doctor finally engrossed in tinkering with a piece of his TARDIS. Seeing as he'd spent hours either fretting about the fate of his car or ranting about whether the remaining War Machines were being properly disassembled and melted down, it was a welcome change.

Jo perched on a stool across the worktable, flipping pages in the morning paper. "Oh look, Lady Chic is having a sale!"

"Hm," the Doctor replied.

"My clothes are getting just so dated. Maybe I'll pop on down during lunch, see what they have. What do you think?"

"Fetch me the that coil of wire there? The green one. Thank you."

She climbed back onto the stool and considered the paper again. "They always have the most mod things, and just the cutest shoes."

"Hm-mmmn," the Doctor said vaguely. They both looked up as Yates opened the lab door. "Yes? What can we do for you, Captain?"

Mike Yates smiled briefly, hesitant. "Oh, I was just going out, to, er, pick up something for lunch. Maybe at Poolberry's. Thought I'd see if I could get anything for you while I was at it." His words included them both, but his eyes kept flickering between the wall and Miss Grant.

"Oh, no thank you," the Doctor said, going back to his work. "Unless you want anything, Jo?"

"I shan't use you for an errand boy, but I'll come along," She jumped from the stool and scooped up her new purse from the workbench. "That's over by the Lady Chic store, and like I was just telling the Doctor, I really need some new clothes before the weather gets any colder."

The Doctor looked quizzical at this, but waved her off. "Just be sure to come right back. I'll need you this afternoon."

"Is that all right?" she asked the young Captain.

"Oh, of course! Yes, no problem at all!" Mike quickly offered her an arm, delighted to suddenly have the company of the charming Miss Grant all to himself.

--

Mike Yate's smile kept hovering around his face as they drove into town. He parked and handed her out of the car, but her eyes were already going beyond him.

"There it is, see? The sale just started this morning," she said, unconsciously pulling him along with her enthusiasm.

Mike was torn between pleasure at her enthusing with him and horror at where she was dragging him. He looked up at the wide, shining windows filled with pink-scripted signs, hugely oversized daisies and inhumanly elongated mannequins.

"What do you think? The polka-dots or the one with the candy striping?" Jo gave a little bounce, then looked at him, teasing. "Oh that's right, you military types always wear the same thing, you probably don't even give it a thought."

The Captain considered. "The Doctor doesn't use a uniform."

She giggled up at him. "Can you imagine the Brigadier trying to put him in one?"

Mike had to smile back at her, it was so contagious. He gestured to the mannequins and edged a little further out onto thin ice. "So, does he, er, like that sort of thing for your lab work dress?"

Now she looked at him like he'd lost his marbles. She rolled her eyes. "What? The Doctor?" She gave a little laugh. "Oh, he wouldn't notice if I came to work in a barrel. I just think how a girl dresses really says something about her, don't you? I just don't want to be an old frumpy fuddy-duddy."

"That," Mike said with feeling, "You most certainly aren't."

She stepped towards the door, almost pulling him in with her.

Mike considered the mini skirts, go-go boots and pastel faux-fur coats on the mannequins in the windows and gave a gulp. "Um, I'd probably just get in the way. Look, there's the tea vendor. How about I pick us up a couple sandwiches and meet you back here?"

"Oh, all right," she smiled. "I'll be out in three shakes of a lamb's tail."

He nodded and quickly crossed the street before he could dwell on that thought too deeply. He still ended up ordering three egg-salad sandwiches instead of one.

Adding a random assortment of biscuits and a boxed fruit salad for Jo, he waited impatiently while the tea vendor slowly packaged it all up then headed back across the way. There was no sign of Jo. Figuring she was still shopping and not feeling brave enough to face the racks of dresses, he leaned against the front stoop and waited.

--

Jo watched Mike cross the street, then turned and looked up at the sale items in the window one more time. A man's voice suddenly spoke low by her ear, something cold and hard pressing into her ribs. "Now, don't make any fuss. We don't want to hurt you. Just come along, little chicken. Walk nice and natural like."

Jo carefully turned and walked. The man casually-seeming put his arm around her shoulders, steering her into the alley where a car waited. Another man ambled along behind. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep the tremble from her voice. There were too many of them for her to tackle herself. Oh, where was Mike?

"We just want a little cooperation from a friend of yours. And you get to be our insurance."

"What?"

He opened the car door. "Get in."

She hesitated. The hard barrel of a gun pressed into her back.

"Don't you worry," the second man said, trying to be more friendly about it. "We don't wanna hurt you. We just need that Doctor fella to help us out, see?"

"The Doctor?" she asked, now truly bewildered, as they pushed her bodily into the back seat and slammed it on her. The car pulled out and headed into traffic.

--