The Rockies loomed large in front of them as they sped along the dirt road and, to Martha's eyes, they seemed impossible huge. "How long before we reach Boulder?" she asked, yelling over the bike's engine.
"We should be able to see it in a few miles," he called back.
Martha smiled, they'd spent the last week travelling on what had felt like every back road in the American mid-west; a detour that had added days onto their journey, but had kept the Toclafane off their trail.
But, if the rumours were true, worse was to come.
The bike slowed, and Reese pulled it to the side of the road, his eye trained on the valley below. Martha eyes followed his, and she felt her mouth go dry. The skies over Boulder were thick with Toclafane.
"Guess the stories weren't exaggerated, then," she said quietly.
"The stories didn't cover half of it," Reese said grimly, as he took a pair of binoculars out of his pack.
"What do you see?"
"Nothing good," he said, as he brought them to his eyes. "Shit, they didn't waste any time did they?"
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
He handed her the binoculars. "North, north west," he said. "Follow the line of the far peak."
The binoculars came into focus, but it took Martha a moment or two to realise what she was looking at. "It's an oil field," she said.
"Right, now go west another few degrees…?"
Martha frowned as she panned the binoculars, "It looks like another oil field, but the equipment looks a bit different."
"That's because it isn't oil; it's gas…now go west another few degrees."
Martha did what he asked. "Is that a strip mine?"
"This part of the Rockies is supposed to be a nature reserve," Reese said. "None of this was here ten weeks ago."
Martha bit her lip. "How rich is this area? I mean, in oil and minerals, and stuff?"
Reese laughed humourlessly. "It'd be quicker to list off the mineral deposits this area doesn't have," he said. "You name it, it's here."
"A playground for the Master, in terms of base materials," Martha said softly. "More rocket weapons for him."
"That guy's twisted, even by my standards," Reese said." He's already got the whole planet on its knees, what more does he want?"
"The Doctor reckons he's insane."
Reese shook his head. "I've seen insane - hell, I've been there. Trust me, that ain't his problem."
Martha looked at Reese, curious. "What do you think it is, then?" she asked.
"I think…." He paused. "I think he's like that kid in the playground, the one that likes to pull the legs off spiders. He likes to hurt people."
"That sounds like crazy to me."
"Crazy is when a person doesn't know right from wrong. The Master knows the difference, he just doesn't care."
"And the Doctor cares too much," Martha added softly.
Reese huffed under his breath. "Now there is a guy who sounds like he's in need of a reality check."
"What does that mean?" Martha asked, scowling at him.
"Oh, come on, Jones," he drawled. "Look at what he's got you doing, travelling around the world on a wing and a prayer - you call this sane?"
"Ha! And what does that say about you?"
"It means I should have my head examined," he grumbled. "But you already knew that."
"Right, so…." Martha grinned. "Now that we've established that everyone but the Master is completely batty, how do we go about this?"
Reese eyed the town below them. "Tell me why I agreed to this?" he asked rhetorically.
"This was your idea."
"I said you needed a distraction, Jones."
"This is a distraction."
"No, this is an out-take from a loony tunes cartoon. You might as well have ACME engraved on its barrel and get it over with."
"I'm sorry, is that some lame American pop culture reference I'm not getting?" Martha asked, trying to keep the smirk off her face.
Reese sighed. "We'll wait until sunset," he said.
Martha watched him skulk into the undergrowth, no doubt looking for firewood and something to beat up, and grinned. "Beep, beep," she said, under her breath.
They drove as near as they dared to the city limits, before hiding the bike under a small heap of brambles.
"You sure this guy is reliable?" Martha asked,
"As reliable as anyone is, these days," Reese said flatly, his eyes looking upward, watching for movement along the rooftop.
Martha nodded silently, not wanting to probe him further while they were still out in the open. Boulder stank of fear, which wasn't surprising, she supposed, considering the high Toclafane presence. She had heard a rumour that the industrial area, on the far side of town, had been turned into a work camp. Absently, she toyed with the key at her neck and she heard a tsk of annoyance from her side.
"Would you stop that?" he muttered, batting her hand away. "I keep forgetting you're there when you tinker with that thing."
"Wait a minute…this works on you?" Martha asked, surprised.
He shrugged. "Yeah, of course it does," he admitted.
"Then how did you know where I was, the first time we met?" she asked.
"Heightened sense of paranoia," he said.
Martha looked at him. She couldn't figure out if he was joking.
Suddenly, he shouldered her into a doorway, and put a finger to his lips. Martha watched as he explained, with a few hand gestures, that he wanted her to keep put. She pulled a face but nodded, reluctantly.
And then he disappeared.
He was quite good at that.
Martha sank into the shadow of the doorway; her fingers curling around the key, as she made a mental note to ask him how he did that. Now that was one trick she wouldn't mind picking up.
Time ticked by, and Martha began to worry. They had gone through this routine more times than Martha could count, over the last few weeks, and she tried her best not to feel like the golden goose being kept under wraps. Reese sometimes gave a whole new meaning to the word overprotective.
A hand suddenly tapped her arm, and Martha glared up into Reese's face as her heart thudded in her chest. "I told you not to do that," she mouthed.
Reese's eyebrows went up into that do I look as if I care expression of his, as he gestured for her to follow.
They kept close to the walls, careful not to make themselves an easy target from above; the Toclafane turned the city streetlights off after curfew, which actually worked in their favour. They slipped down a back street, and Reese paused beside a bin and bent down. Martha's eyes followed him and she sighed; great, another sewer system.
He silently pulled up the manhole cover, which seemed to be attached to a hinge, and gestured to Martha to go first. She felt around with her foot, found a ladder rung, and descended into the pitch dark. The brickwork was wet and damp, and Martha could hear water running in the distance. She waited as Reese stepped onto the ladder, and closed the manhole, before she turned on her torch.
"This guy keeps a work shop down here?" she asked, as she got a good look at her surroundings.
"Well, you weren't expecting a store on Main Street, were you?" he asked, as he led the way down the dank tunnel. "Besides, we still have a way to go. This isn't exactly the direct route. I figure this tunnel is one of the older ones in this network... easier to blow than reinforced concrete."
"They don't trust us," Martha said quietly.
"Don't take it so personal, Jones; nobody trusts anybody, nowadays," Reese said. "And they let us in, didn't they? It's amazing the doors your name will open, better than open sesame."
Martha felt herself blush. "Those stories are all exaggerations, you know that," she protested. "And they should be talking about the Doctor, not me."
"Oh, but they are," Reese drawled. "Martha Jones's Doctor."
She thumped his back. "You're taking the piss!"
"Yup," he said. "Man, you are too easy, sometimes."
Martha grinned, despite herself; Reese in an good mood was a rare thing. "How much further?" she asked, as they stepped into a wider tunnel.
"Not much," he said. "Half a click east - according to the message, anyway."
Martha nodded, her mind already wondering what she'd do once she'd acquired what she'd come for. She had worked hard on creating the legend of the great 'Timelord Weapon' over the last couple of months, and it had really taken on a life of its own…but she needed something more, she needed something solid to show to the people.
Which is why she was skulking around in the sewers of Boulder, Colorado.
Reese had found about Alex Rizzo through the resistance cell they'd met up with in Denver. He was a jeweller who had turned his hand to making weapons and ammunition for the resistance, after the Master's coup. He was also high on the local Toclafane's most wanted list as a result; which is why it took some fancy footwork to arrange this meeting.
Reese's arm suddenly barred Martha's way, and she stopped in her tracks, cocking her head to listen for what had caught his attention. She frowned as she heard something that could have been footsteps. Reese caught her eye, and Martha nodded, turning off her torch.
The footsteps got closer, and Martha felt Reese tense beside her as she heard the click of the safety on his gun. She squeezed his arm: don't.
She felt the tension in his arm ease under her hand, but he didn't put the safety back on the gun. She didn't expect him to. A light flashed on, then off, at the end of the tunnel, and Martha watched as a torch ran off a Morse message, her lips mouthing the words. D-O-O-L-I-T-T-L-E. She looked up at Reese's carefully bland face, as he sent a message back. Z-H-I-V-A-G-O.
Reese had a strange sense of humour, sometimes.
"We didn't think you'd make it," a voice called out.
"Why's that?" Reese asked, his voice deceptively soft.
"Word has gotten out that you're in town," A face stepped into the light of Reese's torch; he was barely more than kid, sixteen if he was lucky, and dressed in a pair of navy overalls. "The Toclafane sweeps have doubled in the last hour and rumour says that the Valiant is on its way here."
"We'd better move quickly, then," Martha said aloud, her mind already reeling. She couldn't afford to get caught in Boulder; the Master would use her family for target practice, and it was too soon to put the Doctor's plan into practice.
Reese looked down at her and frowned. "You all right, Jones?" he asked.
"Yeah, fine, in a hurry, that's all," she said, before smiling at the boy. "What's your name?"
Suddenly, the boy seemed to lose the ability to maintain eye contact. "Joe, ma'am."
"Ooh, I'm a ma'am now, am I?" she teased
"Sorry, ma –Miss?"
"Just call me Martha, Joe," she said. "We're all in this together, eh? Which reminds me, you couldn't show us where we're going?"
"Uh, right this way," Joe muttered, as he led the way down the tunnel.
Reese sniggered and Martha gave him a quick jab in the ribs with her elbow. "Be nice," she said, under her breath.
"Oh, come on, it's funny," he mumbled back. "That's the worse case of hero worship I've seen yet, and I thought that the kid in Denver was bad."
Joe looked over his shoulder, and scowled at Reese, which made Martha think that they have been overheard. "We're here," he muttered, as he tapped at a door hidden in a recess.
The door eased open silently. It had obviously been well oiled. "Get in," a voice from behind the door said, and Reese obliged, glancing around before he let Martha follow. Joe took up the rear and shut the door after them.
No sooner had the door closed, than an overhead bulb came on, and Martha blinked against the sudden glow of light, before turning to see who'd opened the door. It was a woman in her late forties, dark curling hair, going grey at the temples. She also bore more than a passing resemblance to Joe, Martha realised.
"I'm looking for Alex Rizzi," she said aloud.
The woman smiled ruefully. "You're looking at her," she said. "You must be Martha Jones." She phrased the statement as if it were a question and Martha nodded.
"Let's get down to business, shall we?" Martha said. "Neither of us wants me around here longer than I have to be."
She nodded reluctantly, her eyes sliding to Joe. "Double the trouble, at the moment," she said. "Someone has a big mouth, is all I'll say."
"Heard the Valiant is coming," Martha said, as Alex led them down a short hall and into a large room that had been fitted out as a munitions shop.
"I heard that too," Alex said. "But it's probably just the Colonel mouthing off again."
"The Colonel?" Reese echoed sharply. "Has he got an actual name?"
"According to him, that is his name," Alex said wryly. "His way of emulating the Master, I suppose. The guy's got a screw loose, if you ask me." She looked at Martha, adding, "And he's got a real jonesing for you, too. Pardon the pun."
Martha frowned. "Why is that?" she asked.
"Well, according to him, you two have met before," Alex said, as she pulled a silver case off a shelf. "Something about a set to in Sparta?"
Martha caught Reese's eye as she realised who Alex was talking about.
"He must have survived the crash," Reese said. "Could be trouble; nothing worse than a guy out for blood; he'll have to be taken care of."
"We'll talk about it later," Martha said firmly.
Alex ignored their exchange and opened the case with a click. "Speaking of revenge, are you two positive this thing is going to help bring down the Master?" she asked. "Because, I've got to tell you, I came this close to not making this contraption when I got the plans. It was only when they said that you'd be coming in person to collect it, that I knew they were serious."
Martha looked down at the case's contents and grinned as her eyes took in the silvered casing and the multicoloured vials. "Alex, I can definitely say, that this is probably the single most effective weapon we have against the Master."
Reese rolled his eyes, and slapped the case closed. "We should get a move on," he said.
Alex nodded. "They'll send a patrol down this way, soon enough," she said. "They usually do, once they've searched everywhere else."
Martha took the hint. "Thank you, Alex," she said simply. "And—"
"No need to say it," Alex cut in. "This is one secret I'm taking to the grave."
Martha nodded, and followed Reese down the hallway, Joe taking up the rear. The overhead light went off, and she flipped on her torch as Reese opened the door.
"Bye, Martha," Joe whispered, as she stepped into tunnel. "Stay safe."
Reese smirked as they both heard the bolt in the door slide home, and Martha gave him a half hearted slap on the arm. "Stop that! It isn't hero worship!"
"You know, I think you may be right."
"Wait a minute, do my ears deceive me? Did the great Derek Reese just admit to being wrong?"
"What can I say? Hero worship, true love, easy mistake to make."
Martha stuck out her tongue at him. It seemed the only appropriate course of action.
