A/N: Yep, musicalcomet, that is indeed the same antique store I used in this story. That place is awesome! Thanks for your compliment, I do appreciate it. Anyway, sorry I took so long in posting this chapter, it won't happen again. :)
"You look like a burglar," I commented on my best friend's attire with a disapproving frown when I entered our living room. Mike was wearing a black beanie, t-shirt, jacket, combat boots, and cargo pants with pockets filled with who-knows-what sort of 'spy stuff' he could cram into them. Around his neck hung his night vision goggles and he was stuffing some device thing into a small black backpack. He exaggerated a sigh at my comment and retorted, "I'm supposed to look like Ethan Hunt from Mission Impossible."
I moved over to the sofa and plopped down only to hear Mike erupt in laughter. "You are not going dressed like Sherlock Holmes, are you?" he snorted as he looked over my Victorian attire. My mouth flew open, "And why not? It's a perfectly fitting outfit."
He rolled his eyes, "Alright, but take that hat off."
"It's an essential part of the costume, Mike."
"No deerstalkers, Brian. I draw the line there."
I yanked the hat off my head and tossed it to the floor. "Fine," I said as I grabbed my derby hat and adjusted my ascot.
"And what's with the goggles?"
I looked down to the decorative brass goggles hanging around my neck, "In case I need to protect my eyes or I need to look at something up close," I pointed out the hinged magnifying lenses attached to the side of the goggles, "I did take out the sprocket insert so I can see just fine through them."
Mike just shook his head with an amused grin as he pulled his backpack over his shoulders. I checked my pocket watch, ten pm. Time to go. I slid the watch back into my vest pocket and rose to my feet. "Ready?" I asked my friend.
Mike wore a maniacal grin as he picked up a flashlight and brandished it toward me like a weapon, "Oh yeah!"
A Dick's burger and chocolate shake later found us parked at what we considered to be a good distance away from the gate, but still in a line of sight. We were there for an hour and saw nothing come in or out of there. There was a loud slurping noise coming from Mike as he reached the last of his shake. "I'm ready when you are, Brian," he said followed by a belch.
"Are you sure about this, Mike?" I asked him. I was nervous as hell and I could that a part of Mike was too. But it wasn't his style to be nervous, and besides, I did want to know if my police box was in that warehouse. And what they were doing with it.
"Brian," Mike twisted in his seat to look at me, "We are just a couple of guys out for a walk."
"On a deserted street surrounded by warehouses in the middle of the night," I said flatly.
"Look. There's a rave venue right over there. We can always say we got lost looking for the party."
"On a Monday night," I started but caught his raised eyebrow glare. "Oh alright. Let's go. But first," I paused to undo the clasp of the cloak I was wearing and worked it from around my shoulders until I could shove it into the backseat, "the tweed was getting uncomfortable," I finished in response to his questioning look.
Mike chuckled as he and I got out of the car and started walking down the street to the warehouse. I secured my derby hat and I couldn't help but shiver. I certainly wasn't cold because I was wearing a black wool gentlemen's coat with silver cog buttons. My favorite coat. No, not cold at all, just nervous. Really nervous, and to top it off, the growing paranoia made me break out in a sweat. When we reached the gate, Mike whispered, "Don't stop. This is part of the surveillance."
I did as he said and kept my eyes on the pavement as I put one foot in front of the other. Suddenly, Mike grabbed my sleeve and pulled me down an alley at quick pace.
"Where are we going?" I hissed.
"To their hideout."
"How do you know where it's at?"
He stopped and gazed at me like I told him the sky was falling. "What?" I asked in confusion.
"For a Holmes fan, you sure are oblivious, Brian," he stated.
"Huh?" I was at a total loss.
"Look," he pointed to the building we were headed to, "it's the only place around here with the lights on, and there's a Dumpster right underneath that window. So shut up and come on."
For as annoying as Mike can be, he really is a genius sometimes. I would never tell him that though. His ego is large enough as it is. I focused my attention on our destination. It was a newer, single story warehouse, not one of the old brick ones. This looked like it was built in the eighties or nineties and had two-foot high windows just underneath the roof line to let in light.
Mike easily climbed onto the Dumpster and almost fell into a fit of laughter as he watched me try to climb up as well. My shoes couldn't find a grip on the damp, slick plastic lid. I stopped and glared at him intensely, making sure I curled my lip enough for him to know I didn't share his humor. Finally, he bent over and held out a hand, "I can't believe you wore loafers." I took his hand and snarled, "Oh shut up." He almost started laughing again as he pulled me up.
The height of the Dumpster was just enough to let us peer though the window. The interior wasn't that large, maybe fifty by a hundred feet. Stacked up in a single row along the wall underneath us and to our right were crates and smaller cardboard boxes. The wall across from us was two loading bay doors. The black moving truck had been backed in and parked just behind one loading door. The wall on the left had a smaller room built out from it that must be the office area. Most important of all was my police box right there in the middle of the floor space with its still lit windows and signs. I could see its side and part of its doors.
"My police box," I whispered to Mike without looking away. He mumbled an answer as I watched two men in jeans and jackets walk up to the police box. If you saw them, you would probably say they were henchmen. One carried an axe and the other carried a power saw. I looked in horror as the man with the axe lifted the tool and brought it down on the box with the clang. My horror turned to astonishment as the axe bounced off the wood without leaving so much as a scratch. He tried the axe again with the same result. The other henchman stepped up with the power saw. I could hear the machine's loud screech as its blade made contact with the police box's door. Sparks showered the man and the floor, but after a few seconds, the man pulled the saw away and again, there was no sign of damage.
My mouth was agape as I turned my head to look at Mike. He returned the same shocked expression. I gulped and returned my attention to the inside of the warehouse. A third older man dressed in a black suit holding a cane was now standing with the two men in front of the police box. I could see their mouths moving, but could hear nothing. "I wish I could hear what they were saying," I whispered. Mike tapped my shoulder for my attention and he handed me a headphone ear piece.
I took the ear piece and stared in gratitude as I realized he was holding a small dish up to the window. I was so engrossed that I didn't even realize until now Mike was holding it. Damn. I guess I can't make fun of his spy junk anymore. I also realized that he was wearing binoculars. Of course he had the 'hands free' kind. "Do you have another pair of those?" I pointed to the binoculars. He fumbled for a moment as he reached into a pocket on his cargo pants and retrieved a smaller, not hands free, pair of binoculars. "Thanks," I whispered as I took them and focused in on my police box.
"Bring the Time Lord over here," barked the man in the black suit as he motioned toward the office.
After a few moments, two more men walked out the office door carrying a lanky man with scruffy brown hair by the armpits, his red-shoed feet dragged on the ground. He appeared to be close to my age, and he was handcuffed along with a chain attached to shackles on his ankles. I was reminded of seeing that on high profile prisoners on television shows. It looked like he was ruffed up a bit too judging by the bleeding lower lip and the state of his clothes. The light blue button shirt he wore was unbuttoned half way down and hung loosely over his brown pinstriped slacks.
When they reached the front of the police box, the men dropped him and I cringed at the 'thock' sound his knees made when they hit the cement floor. There was a distinct but brief moan of pain as the captive hunched over resting his head on the floor. "Open the TARDIS," the man in the black suit demanded. The Time Lord, whatever that means, raised his head and glared at the man with such fury, I thought he was going to jump up and attack right then.
"Brian," I heard Mike whisper, "What's a TARDIS?"
"I have no idea. Now shut up."
The man raised his cane and touched the end of it to the chained man, who suddenly fell over to his side screaming in pain. To my horror, I realized the cane was a cattle prod. The man in black pulled back the cattle prod and snarled, "Open the TARDIS!" The man on the floor stared up at his torturer with a hate I've never seen before. "You'd better kill me," he spat in an English accent, "or I promise you. Oh, I promise you I will destroy you!"
The man in black glared at his victim on the floor for moment, then straightened himself. "I'd rather not kill you, Doctor," he said smugly, "You're worth more alive than dead, but if you won't open the TARDIS, maybe she will." He motioned to a thug, who immediately sat the axe he held down and moved over to the back of the moving truck. He opened the rolling door and climbed inside. The light in the warehouse was enough that I could see a blonde headed woman with a gag in her mouth sitting against the back wall. I felt sick at the thought of what they would do to her.
When the henchman grabbed her up by the arms, she struggled, but her hands were tied behind her back preventing her from being very effective. He pulled her out of the truck onto her feet and walked behind her, guiding her roughly by the back of her neck up to the man in black. When she saw the chained man lying on the floor, she renewed her efforts to break free and I heard a muffled, "Doctor!" The bound man on the floor looked at her in horror and shock. "Rose!" he called out and fought against chains that wouldn't budge.
The man with the cattle prod stepped in front of Rose and spoke in a stern tone, "Open the TARDIS." Rose looked at him with tears in her eyes and shook her head vehemently. "I will kill the Doctor if you don't." Her eyes narrowed and she kicked him in the shin. I almost cheered aloud, but immediately clasped my free hand over my mouth. I glanced over to Mike and before I could say a word, he yanked the headphones out of my hand and quickly stuffed the dish into his pack.
"What are you doing?" if I sounded exasperated it was because I wanted to see what was happening in there and I wanted to be able to hear it as well.
"I'm going to rescue her," he spoke with a determination I've never heard in him before.
"Wh-what did you say?" I was flabbergasted.
He jumped off the Dumpster and looked up at me, "I can't let her die, Brian."
I too jumped down and faced my insane friend, "Have you completely lost your mind?"
Mike turned and marched down the alley. I chased after him, "Mike, what are you going to do? They probably have guns!"
"Don't worry. I'll think of something."
A/N: reviews would be great and encouraging. Thanks!