The Doctor watched the tall redheaded man closely as he circled the Time Lord like a carnivore circling its prey.
"I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius," Andrew said to the Doctor.
"That's what they say."
Andrew snorted and asked. "If so, then why did you fall so easily into my trap?"
"What makes you think I have?" the Doctor asked.
For a moment there was a flicker of doubt in Andrew's eyes. He turned his back to the Doctor for fear he would detect his moment of weakness. "You're probably wondering what I want with you," Andrew said.
"It did cross my mind," the Doctor said, choosing his words carefully. "An explanation would be nice."
"Well, what would you say if I told you this entire scenario, the assassination attempt on Churchill was just a ruse to get you to come to earth? You see, we knew you couldn't resist coming to help, especially your friend, Winston."
River's eyes widened in shock. "What? Doctor, I didn't know!"
"Of course you didn't," the Doctor said reassuringly.
"What have you done with Father Octavian?" River asked.
"You dare to address me? I don't answer questions from a woman!" Andrew responded with venom in his words.
"Then I'll ask the question. Where is he?" the Doctor asked.
"I'm sure he's dead by now along with his clerics…not by us, mind you, too messy. No, we just dumped them on the front lines where they will be slaughtered like vermin. And, if by chance, any of them survive, we have a secret weapon that'll ascertain no trace of them will ever be found," Andrew said, smiling.
River closed her eyes and swore under her breath.
"My sentiments, exactly," the Doctor said softly.
"Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" Andrew turned to one of his subordinates and said. "Bring it in." He came and stood beside the Doctor. "And now, you shall have your explanation as to why you're here, Doctor."
Soon after, another metal table was wheeled into the room. It too had a body under a white sheet. The table was brought before the Doctor. Andrew watched the Time Lord closely as he pulled the sheet away from the face. River gasped. The Doctor opened his mouth to speak but no words came forth. Andrew grinned in triumph.
Father Octavian could hear Angelo and Christian shouting at others in the house. He dared to peek through the window and was horrified to see several German soldiers aiming their guns at his clerics who were pointing their guns at the Germans. The soldiers and the clerics were at an impasse.
Father Octavian could not see any sign of David? Had he been captured? The Bishop had to do something! Since he wasn't carrying a gun he had to find another way to help his men. The only option left to him was deception – trick the enemy into surrendering.
"Christian, Angelo!" Father Octavian shouted.
"Father Octavian!" Christian exclaimed.
The German soldiers were startled and became even more fearful, one aiming his gun toward the door.
"Where's David?" the Bishop asked.
"We haven't seen him, sir. I thought he was with you."
"No, he is not. Do any of those men speak English?"
"Do any of you speak English?" Christian asked the German soldiers.
"I speak English," a middle-aged German soldier answered.
"Your name, sir?" Father Octavian asked.
"I am Sergeant Eric Amsel."
"Sergeant, you are surrounded, sir. Put your guns down!" Father Octavian demanded.
"Who am I speaking with?" Amsel asked.
"I am Father Octavian, Bishop Second Class of…."
Angelo shot a look at Christian. Father Octavian had let slip his official title in the Church service!
"What is the meaning of this? I know of no such rank!" Amsel exclaimed angrily.
What? Father Octavian grimaced, realizing his mistake. The pain in his chest was becoming unbearable and he wasn't thinking straight. He had to quickly take back control of the situation. "Sir, I repeat, you are surrounded! I assure you under the Geneva Convention treaties no harm will come to you and you will be under my protection. Now, put your guns down!"
Father Octavian unexpectedly heard a noise behind him. As he turned to look he came face to face with the end of a rifle barrel.
The young man climbed. As he reached the top of the hill he took a moment to enjoy the beauty before him. Rolling grasslands seemed to go on forever. Then his eye caught sight of a farm house below. He fought back his fear and cautiously crept toward the house.
Hiding amongst the undergrowth he observed the house to discover whether it was occupied or deserted. Even though he could not see anyone his gut feeling told him to stay away from the house. But there was a large barn off to the side. He wandered over to the barn and carefully opened its doors. He was exhausted after hours of walking and needed to rest. The barn would provide shelter until he regained his strength. As the young man explored the old barn he spotted baskets filled with fresh apples. A smile lit his face for he couldn't remember the last time he had had something to eat. He rushed to one of the baskets and grabbed a couple of apples. He hungrily bit into the apple and smiled, savoring the sweet taste of the juicy fruit.
"Hello."
The young man jumped and began to choke. He gasped and coughed until he could finally breathe.
"Are you all right?"
The young man wiped the tears from his eyes and looked down at a little boy.
"Yes, I'm fine. You just caught me by surprise."
"Sorry."
"Where did you come from?"
The little boy pointed to a side door. "Over there. What are you doing in our barn?" the boy asked.
"I…I was just…I was hungry and I saw your apples…"
"You can have some more. Father won't mind. Are you a soldier?"
The young man looked down at his uniform, that of a WWII Private. "Yes, I am," he responded. "Are there any others like me around here?"
"No. Just you." the boy said, smiling. "I want to be a soldier when I grow up."
"Where are your mommy and daddy?"
"Mum's in the kitchen. She's making apple pies. Father's in the field."
The young man continued to cough and clear his throat as he sat on a bale of hay. "What's your name?"
"Michael," Michael said as sat beside the young soldier.
The young man handed the boy an apple. "Ah, that a great name. A sacred name."
"Sacred? What does that mean?" Michael asked as he bit into his apple.
"It means it's a very special name. How old are you, Michael?"
"Six and a half."
"Then you're almost a man," the young man said jokingly. "Michael, do you happen to know where London is?"
"No."
The young man's shoulders drooped. "Oh," he said, defeated.
"But Father says we live only 30 miles from London. We don't go there anymore. Father says it's dangerous," Michael said.
"Your father is a very smart man, Michael."
"I know. Are you going there?" Michael asked.
"Yes. Did your father tell you which direction London is?"
"No. But the road will take you there," Michael said, smiling.
"Road? Will you show me the road?" asked the young man.
Michael nodded. The young man stuffed more apples into his pants' pockets and followed Michael out to a dirt road behind the barn.
Michael pointed and said. "When Father goes to London, he goes that way."
"Thanks. You've been a big help. God bless you, Michael."
"What's your sacred name?"
The young man smiled. "Bob. My name's Bob."
