The Master (speaking of the Second Doctor): "...the comedian, but a capable comedian, too; not quite the clown he looks, this one!"
-Destiny of the Doctors
Second Doctor: "When I say run, run. RUN!"
-Tomb of the Cybermen
The masked man adjusted his collar as he punched in the coordinates for communications relay that had been set up between his hideout and the Grand Council of Gallifrey. He sat back down in his chair, and waited.
Soon, the screen was filled with the image of one of the Council.
"Cardinal Borusa, isn't it?" said the man in a quiet, but friendly voice.
"Just one more mystery to uncover, how you know that," said Borusa, frowning. "Why have you contacted us again?"
"I regret to say that, though the drop was attempted, I did not receive the package," said the man. "Unfortunately, the fault was mine; needless to say, the men responsible have been disciplined." He sighed and shook his head. "However, I cannot release the Doctor until I get what I asked for."
Borusa raised an eyebrow. "We sent no envoy," he said.
"What?"
"Any Time Lords showing up there would have been acting entirely on their own. However," he said, leaning forward,"there are much more serious terms to discuss."
The man sat back, nodding, with his fingertips pressed together in what seemed to be a thoughtful manner. "I'm listening."
"First of all," said Borusa,"the one you hold, or claim to hold. The Doctor. I believe you wanted a 'reward' for turning him in, correct?"
"Those were the terms, yes."
"The one you hold," said Borusa carefully, "is not the Doctor."
The Doctor sat cross-legged, playing his recorder. Or, at least trying to; every few seconds, he would hit a very bad note. He stopped and took a hard look at it.
"I cannot tolerate this!" he said. "I need to quiet my nerves. How can I quiet my nerves with a bad instrument?" He sighed. "I just got this one, too..."
He stood up, and started taking a closer look at the mouthpiece and body. "Seems to be just fine," he mused. "Perhaps the acoustics of this cell are wrong." He pouted. " That's just unfair."
He played another experimental set of notes on the recorder, then stopped. "That wall. Why does it echo different than the others?" He walked over and rapped on it with his fist, quickly drawing it back. "Ow! Yes, it's quite solid!" He held the recorder very close to his eyes, looking into each end. " Maybe it's dirty..."
He pulled a large handkerchief out of his shirt pocket, threading it through the instrument and pulling it out. Then, he gave the outside a quick polish before eying his handiwork. "Hmmm."
He stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket, then pulled it back out again, shaking it out. He began wrapping it around his injured knuckles, while holding the recorder in his good hand.
It began to slip-
"Oh no no no!" The Doctor spun in place, grabbing at the recorder, which just evaded his fingers. In lunging for it, he over-balanced, tripped over his oversize shoes and went stumbling headlong toward the wall.
The recorder hit the ground end-on, flipped toward the wall- then with a vwip! went right through! The Doctor flailed through right after it, landing with a solid "thud" in a small hallway on the other side. "Whoof!" he remarked, as the wind was knocked out of him.
Fortunately, nobody else seemed to be around. He got back to his feet, dusting himself off, before scooping up his recorder. He turned to regard the wall. "Hm!" he said. "Nega... force wall, I believe it was. Only solid to one who is actually trying to leave." He prodded it with his recorder. It was quite solid again. "Or possibly trying to get in. My, my." He straightened his coat, looked up and down the hall. "No one here, then. There's a lucky stroke and no mistake!"
He started off at a trot, looking at each locked door in turn. He paused before each one, reading the strange alien script embossed there, then continued on, muttering to himself.
He stopped finally before a metallic-blue door. He listened carefully at it, tapped it lightly with his recorder, then opened it. He gasped.
At the far end of the room, Victoria sat slumped in a corner, head lolling off to one side. The left sleeve of her dress was torn, and a streak of blood ran down her cheek. She was pale, too pale...
He started forward-
Her head suddenly snapped up, eyes wide. "Jaime, no!"
The Doctor turned and fell back as Jaime lunged forward and swung a pitcher at the place where he had been standing scant moments before!
Jaime checked his swing and gawked. "Doctor!" He turned to grin at Victoria. "Yeh see, I told you he would ge' out himself!" He then reached over and gave the fallen Time Lord a hand in getting to his feet.
The Doctor gave Victoria a quizzical look of his own. She blushed, though it hardly showed through the heavily-powdered 'pallor' she was wearing. "The leader of those creatures showed us the cell where you were held, and bragged about how nothing could escape it," she said. "He was very convincing." She paused. "How did you get out of there, anyway?"
Jaime groaned inwardly. The Doctor was full of the most detailed explanations, and he was usually more than happy to share the confusing details. This time, however, was different.
"I would be glad to relate it," he said," but I'd be more glad to relate it somewhere much safer and, preferably, a long way away. Come along, I believe I know where they've stashed my TARDIS." So saying, he turned on his heel and walked out the door.
----------------------
Back on the TARDIS, Jaime was feeling that something was maybe more wrong than usual. The Doctor's expression hadn't changed from its troubled frown, and aside from short answers to their questions, he had kept mostly silent as he locked the door and bustled about the place, moving various buttons and knobs about on the surface of the console.
"Doctor," he said, half-joking,"are ye sure we should be going on another jaunt so soon? I din nae think we know where we're going to go, yet-"
"That's just what I'm counting on, Jaime," said the Doctor. He pulled aside a small panel, turned a knob, then began to press up a large switch next to it. The rotor in the center of the console began to rise and fall. "Far away from here in space and time, and completely untraceable. Dear me, what a mess that was!"
He turned away from the console, and took hold of the lapels of his coat. There was a relieved smile on his face.
"Well, then! How about we freshen up a bit, then put a spot of tea on? I think that, after all we've just been through, we deserve it!"
The masked man stared at the screen for a long moment, then laughed. "Of course he is the Doctor," he said. "Don't try to change-"
"That is not the Doctor. The Doctor has been judged, his sentence carried out. He has since been reprieved. You have snatched that particular Time Lord out of his proper time stream, violating our most basic law. And you ask us for a reward?"
The masked fellow stiffened in his seat. "Ah," he said.
"Indeed," said Borusa. "Not only will we not be giving you a reward, ransom, or anything else, the fact that you have abducted a Lord of Time has placed you in the status of an enemy of Gallifrey. You will return him, or be wiped from Time itself!"
To Borusa's astonishment, the man started to laugh.
"I assure you, we are quite serious-"
"Of course you are," said the man. "Thing is, though, that you've already tried that, haven't you? Retrieval, even temporal wipe or reversal. Nothing! All the assaults on my shell organizations over the last three years - I anticipated them all. Face it; you have nothing!"
"So you say," said Borusa, the menace in his voice tinged with frustration,"so you say. But you have been but a casual annoyance, in comparison to what you are now - you are toying with forces that threaten the fabric of the Universe itself." He fell silent.
The masked man looked up as four men brought in a large crate. "Ah," he said. "My newest shipment."
"Do not mock me!"
"Shall we open it together?" said the man, pointedly ignoring him. Two men stepped forward with pry bars, and began removing the slats. A metallic box was being revealed-
There was a commotion from the screen, and the man looked up. A Citadel worker was purposefully pressing himself into the room, held back by two guards. "Lord Borusa!" he shouted. Borusa turned to look at him, and his face took on a lighter shade. He quickly turned to look back toward where the crate was being opened.
The man had been released by the guards at a wave of his hand, and was now whispering into Borusa's ear. "What- this isn't possible!"
"Oh, you assumed that because I asked for them, that I couldn't obtain the portraits myself?" The man seemed to be smirking beneath his mask. "Subterfuge... wheels within wheels, Cardinal."
"Indeed," said Borusa, eyes glued to the crate, "indeed. There is one matter, though."
"Which is?"
"Oh, customs, smugglers, criminal organizations..." Borusa sat back and raised an eyebrow. "Did you think that because 'Time Lords are all high and mighty', we wouldn't get involved with the criminal element?"
"I didn't think you would get involved with either side, at all."
"Oh, that would usually be true." Borusa turned and nodded to someone off-camera. "However, we are talking about defense of our own planet, the nexus of realities, and of our legacy. We are willing to not only get our hands dirty, but steeped in the blood of worlds, to defend it." He paused, and gave another frown. "I trust I am making my point,"
"I trust you'll get to your point, hopefully soon," retorted the man. "Keep in mind that I don't have hundreds of years of life to waste while you go on and on with your little words."
"Finish your little presentation, and you shall see my point soon enough."
The man was silent, but motioned for his men to continue. When the slats were all off of the box, he produced a small remote control, and pressed the main switch. The sides fell away with a dramatic Crash!
The crate was empty.
The room was silent for a long moment; several of the masked man's underlings were giving the room's only exit longing glances, particularly the lieutenant who had gotten the crate in in the first place.
"Wheels within wheels, you said." Borusa's voice broke the silence. It fair dripped with contempt. "You insolent primitive pig. All of time and space, and you think there is possibly a single trick you can try against us, that we have not seen to its final end? Enjoy your empty box, and cherish your next hours or minutes; for those may be the final ones that anyone remembers you ever existed!"
The screen went suddenly black.
Quiet pervaded the room.
With one quick movement, the man stood up...
and sat back down, roaring with undisguised glee!
The men wore various expressions of shock and bemusement. Had the boss finally lost his mind completely? They forgot even to look to the exit in their surprise.
"Oh, Borusa," he said finally. "I do not doubt your intelligence, or the vast stores of knowledge of the Time Lords. But for such a clever man," he said, raising the remote again and pressing another button, "you are such a monumentally impulsive fool!"
The bottom of the crate slid open... and two large flat rectangular cases rose out of the flat bottom; those around it gawped at the impossiblity of the scene. The masked man seemed to take pity on them.
"Another piece of Time Lord tech," he said. "The inside of the panel is able to hold much more than the outside would suggest.."
Just then, a guard walked in, stiff with terror. The man turned toward him. "I can see you've drawn the short straw," he said, "so let's hear it."
The words came out in a mad rush. "The Doctor and his companions have escaped!" The guard stood there, shaking. A swift death, he hoped....
The boss surprised them all, yet again. "Really? Oh, well. His usefulness has ended, but really, he can't compromise anything here. No harm done." He turned to the shaking guard. "You may go."
Even as the man began to sag in relief, he was striding past him.
"Clear the room!" he shouted. "I would like proper solitude to enjoy my prize."
The men complied with such enthusiasm, that in ten seconds, he was entirely alone.
