Part 12 (1/2)

McBride, however, was a long way from his desk. He was flat on the floor in Mullen's hospital room, drunk. Mullen was above him on the bed, drunk.

At some stage he'd hit the liquor store, pa.s.sing the bottles up through Mullen's window to avoid the prying eyes of nurses. He hadn't moved for the past hour.

'They've been like it all afternoon, doctor.' The nurse outside the door sounded anxious. McBride and Mullen started to giggle.

'They've been noisy, disruptive, told me to... ”something” off. We should call the police.'

'I am the b.l.o.o.d.y police!' shouted Mullen. 'Now do as I told you and f-'

66.'So I haven't gone mad then!' The young pilot sounded relieved and angry. 'They told me I'd imagined it. I'd had some sort of breakdown after Tom Kneale died. They haven't let me out of here since.'

'Oh, you're quite sane, Captain. And this is definitely the first time we've met.'

'Definitely.'

'Then I can confirm you have an absolute double lying in a hospital in London. He'd been in a rocket crash.'

O'Brien slumped into a chair, dumbstruck. 'They even had me seeing a shrink'

'A psychiatrist?'

'He came down from Harley Street to help me through the trauma of the crash. He said I was in a delusional state that I felt guilty that Tom had died and not me. You see, I'd almost gone in his place. He had a bit of a cold, but he still wanted to go. In the end we flipped a coin.'

'Your psychiatrist suggested that you'd imagined hearing yourself on the radio.'

'Yup.'

'What else has he said to you?' For some reason the Doctor was getting goose-pimples.

'Nothing much. He's old. A bit doolally himself, if you ask me. I do most of the talking. To be honest, I make a lot of stuff up. Glad of the company, you see. I think he knows, but he indulges me. He seems to Spend more time with Drakefell than me but then Drakefell really needs it.'

'Yes... I'll be having a word with Dr Drakefell,' the Doctor murmured.

'Doctor, what's going on? Who's this guy pretending to be me?

Some kind of Russian plant?'

'No, I'm afraid it's much more serious than that.'

O'Brien looked suddenly wary. 'Hey should I be talking to you?'

'I'm probably the only person in the whole place who'll tell you the truth...'

O'Brien nodded his head.

'So tell me, what was the launch really all about?'

'Oh...' O'Brien shrugged. 'There were a few experiments we had to carry out, but the biggie was the satellite launch. No one was supposed to know about that.'

'Was it a spy satellite?'

'Oh, yeah. Really advanced. There's a top secret project, been on the go a while. Some new technology... I don't know much about it. But 67 the rocket had some weird new piloting mechanisms. It was like learning from scratch. And the satellite was like nothing even the Yanks had developed. They loved it. They jumped on it.'

'Something went wrong, though, didn't it?'

'The rocket exploded. It was huge it sent all our meters off the scale. Took the satellite with it. Had to be a Soviet missile.'

'But they found no trace of one.'

'No.'

'And the Waverider?'

'Crashed in the sea. How it survived I can't imagine.'

'I see... Now tell me, did you lose radio contact with Colonel Kneale at all?'

'Just after the explosion, yes. For quite a few minutes.'

'And whose voice was coming through when contact was re-established?'

He hesitated.' It was kind of hard to say at first the signal was a mess, but... No, if I'm honest, I knew right away. It was mine, all the way down.' He shook his head in bafflement.

There was a knock at the door.

'Captain O'Brien?'

'That's Drakefell,' O'Brien whispered to the Doctor. 'No jam for supper now.'

'Would you open the door, please?'

'Go on,' the Doctor said. 'I need to talk to him anyway.'

O'Brien opened the door. Beyond it stood Drakefell, puffing nervously at a thin cigar that had gone out. At his back were half a dozen soldiers.

'You know the rules, Captain. No unauthorised visitors on site. The same rules for you as for everyone else.'

'Everyone else is allowed to leave the G.o.dd.a.m.n grounds! I can't go beyond my garden wall!'

'Would you ask your visitor to step outside, please?'

'With pleasure!' The Doctor sprang forward, hat doffed, hand extended. You're Dr Drakefell. I recognise you from the television.'

'The question is, who are you?' Drakefell retorted. 'And what are you doing here?'

'Well, actually, I came to see you.'

Rita crept up to the little pink cottage on the outskirts of Kennington, just as she had when she had photographed Ace and her hunky friend delivering their package. She'd been quite unable to sit and wait. She knew they had to find the girl, and this was one of only two leads they 68 had one of two places they knew she'd been.