We ended up right at the Willow City police station, by which I mean right in the station. I had no handy explanation for this (I tried "new police vehicle prototype" and eyebrows were raised) but it did create a diversion, which gave some relief to Lisa and Mr. Garcia, who were being grilled rather industriously by Officer Ramirez. They had tried to explain our absence without actually offering any facts, and this was going over about as well as you'd expect: very, very badly. Officer Ramirez couldn't charge the two with anything but was loathe to let them go, either. Our dramatic entrance shifted the focus to me more than to the TARDIS.
"What happened to your face?" cried Lisa. Mr. Garcia just stared. Officer Ramirez, having seen three people emerge from the TARDIS, tried to open the door and enter.
"It's still under development," I murmured. To Lisa I said, "Long story."
"You look a bit worse for wear, Doctor," said Officer Ramirez, giving up on the TARDIS.
"You should see the other fellow."
"I did, And his friend. Both in custody."
"I think," I offered, "they stole Burt Smith's car, too, and tried to implicate him by using his plates. After all, he could identify one of them."
This surprised Officer Ramirez. "He never told anyone that! What makes you say that?"
I backpedaled quickly. "Maybe I'm mistaken. I thought I'd read that somewhere." Then I tried, "I know there's a trial date for the man behind the robbery but what's happening with the bank manager?"
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe you should take my statement now so we can get on about our business."
Officer Ramirez was amenable to that and I was as truthful and detailed about our scuffle with my abductors as I could be without mentioning extraterrestrial substances… or previous encounters experienced out of order. It wasn't dawn yet when Lisa and Mr. Garcia set off for Mason and Tegan, Nyssa and I stunned the Willow City Police Force by piling into a tiny police box, which then vanished before their very eyes.
We knew we'd precede the VW but not by so terribly much, so we went right to the Mason household's front garden in Mason. The sky was lightening ever so slightly. I hadn't had to ask Lisa her surname; I'd heard Officer Ramirez thank her.
"The Mason family lives in Mason?" Tegan was amused.
"I'm guessing," I said, "that Lisa's family is not the only one in Mason named Mason."
"We don't have to guess," said Nyssa. "We can look it up." However, before we could look it up, the scanner picked up a flash of movement and we all turned our attention to that.
"It's just a car," said Tegan. "Someone's coming home late."
"Or early," said Nyssa.
"No." The pit of my stomach was telling me something was wrong. "Look, here it comes back again." Then I had a dreadful thought. "Lisa's car."
"That's not her car," Tegan corrected me.
"No, I mean it was parked in Mr. Garcia's driveway for a long time. It was seen. The license plate was seen." The color drained from Nyssa's face and Tegan gasped. "We're not the only ones waiting for her."
"Doctor," said Tegan, "if you go out there and get yourself murdered I will never forgive you."
"But someone has to warn the family. They could all be held hostage, or killed. That could be happening already. Do not, under any circumstances, follow me. Understood?" My friends were silent. "Promise me!" Reluctantly, they nodded. I squinted at the scanner, trying to see anyone who might be out there. Someone standing flat against the door would be invisible to the scanner. Anyone standing behind or on either side of the TARDIS would be likewise imperceptible. The car we'd seen had cut its lights. "All right." I took a deep breath and stepped out into the crisp predawn air.
I got all the way to the low cement stoop at the front door before I felt the muzzle of a gun against my left cheek. Whether or not I warned the Mason family I was about to die, so I recklessly smacked the gun down, away from my face, with my right hand, jabbing my right elbow into the doorbell and holding it. With luck, the Masons would be so annoyed that they'd call the police. With even better luck this would happen before Lisa and Mr. Garcia arrived.
"You've been uncooperative, Mr. Garcia," said my assailant, coolly placing the gun right back where it had been, pressing a little harder against my cheek. "You've forced me out of my nice, warm bed in the middle of the night. That's what I call inconsiderate." He didn't try to interrupt my doorbell-ringing. I slowly lowered my elbow. I couldn't turn to face him with his gun digging a hole in my cheek but I could feign a faint. I knew I was a dead man; I was trying to buy time, not for myself but for Lisa and Mr. Garcia, and for the Mason family, I didn't know if the gunman was alone but it seemed likely. Lights had gone on in the house and someone had protested, loudly enough to be heard outside, the ringing of the doorbell. Hostages don't do that. "Oh, get up," said my assailant, disdainfully. "You're wasting my time and trying my patience."
Two things occurred to me simultaneously. One was that if this guy, thinking I was Mr. Garcia, took me away and/or killed me, the real Mr. Garcia might survive. The other was that I seriously didn't want to die. I kept my eyes closed and my body limp. When he lifted me up I was dead weight; when he let go of me I crumpled convincingly at the foot of the stoop, where the grass was soft.
"For Pete's sake," said the man I still hadn't properly seen. He gave me a desultory shove with one foot, and, getting no reaction from me, reached down to feel my carotid pulses. I am sure he was confused by what he found, but he seemed not to dwell on that. I heard some rearrangement of clothing that I hoped was him putting the gun away. He began to drag me by both feet, away from the stoop, into the driveway. I was on my back but did not feel confident about being able to sit up and surprise him while his hands were full of my shoes; he could easily just let go and overpower me, so I let myself be dragged. Then he let go of my feet. I heard a car door open. He walked around me in order to reach under my arms and lift me to a sitting position against the edge of what I thought might be the car's back seat. I slumped as if still unconscious, thinking, good, maybe I can slam the car door into him. He maneuvered me up onto the seat and began to slide me backwards to get my legs into the car.
That's when I kicked him. I didn't even open my eyes until I felt my feet connect. He didn't fall but he stumbled backwards, clearly annoyed and ready to come at me. I pulled the car door closed, slammed it against him by opening it as fast as I could, then pulled it closed again and locked it. I couldn't reach or climb over the headrest to lock the front passenger door; the driver's door was not remotely possible. I locked the other back door, waited for him to come around to the driver's side and get in, which he swiftly did, and then I flew back to the other door, unlocked it and tumbled out of the car. I was on my feet and careening toward the TARDIS before he could get back out and chase me, but I stopped short of the TARDIS door: I could save myself but then why was I even there?
In fact why wasn't Lisa there yet. It occurred to me that she had driven by, seeing what was going on, and had gone for help. I didn't have time to consider all this fully, as my assailant was drawing his gun. Then he was dropping the gun, and falling down at Nyssa's feet. She had no two by four this time, but a Blue Eyes Arizona Cypress sapling swung with enough force can fell a man. Tegan picked up the gun, made sure the safety catch was on and threw it to me. I put it in a pocket. Then I yelled "I told you lot to stay in the TARDIS!"
"You're welcome, Doctor!" shouted Tegan.