Part 12 (2/2)

'Yes, of course.'

'Well, you don't look too good to me.' Mailer sat down on the other side of the desk.

The Master made a mighty effort to rally himself. He was controlling this gang of vicious thugs by little more than the force of his will. He couldn't afford to show any signs of weakness. When he spoke again, it was in his usual authoritative manner. 'I want an armed guard on the door of the Process Chamber. No one is to go near that Machine.'

'Don't worry, mate. None of my lot are likely to.'

The Master stroked his beard. 'Perhaps not but morbid curiosity can be very strong. See to it, will you?'

'Yeah, okay.'

The Master smiled, bringing to bear the full force of his personality. 'I am pleased with you, Mailer. You have done very well. Very well indeed.'

'Good. Then perhaps you'll do something for me?'

'Anything!' said the Master expansively. 'You have only to ask.'

'Maybe you'll explain why we don't all scarper tonight, before it gets light?'

'My dear Mailer, you're simply not thinking. A gang of armed convicts roaming the countryside...'

'We can get hold of civvies and there's cars outside.'

'Even so, you must remember that you'd have not only the police but the army against you. Dogs, troops, helicopters. I a.s.sure you, you'd all be captured or killed before tomorrow morning.'

Mailer looked suspiciously at him. 'I take it you've got a better idea?'

'Of course,' said the Master confidently. Drawing the curtains, he pulled down a wall screen, then crossed to a slide projector, set up on a nearby table. 'How would you like a free pardon, unlimited money, and a plane ticket to anywhere in the world?'

'How would I like it do me a favour!'

'Then pay attention.' The Master clicked on the projector and a picture filled the screen. It showed a giant rocket, loaded on to a transporter. 'This is Thunderbolt, a nerve gas missile, nuclear powered, and British, of course.'

'Of course!' muttered Mailer.

'And what's more, it's illegal,' continued the Master.

'Gas warfare was banned several years ago. The British Government have therefore decided to dump this missile at sea.' The Master paused impressively. 'Tomorrow morning, the missile, with a very small escort, will pa.s.s within a very few miles of this prison.'

'I suppose you want me to hijack it,' said Mailer sarcastically.

'Right first time! I intend to aim the missile at the Peace Conference in London.'

Mailer shook his head in amazement. 'You've got to be joking.'

'I a.s.sure you I am not.'

The Master flicked on another slide and a map appeared on the screen.

He pointed. 'Now, this is the prison and this is where you will ambush the convoy...'

When Vosper opened the cell door to check on his prisoners, the Doctor was still stretched out unconscious.

Jo was fast asleep in a chair beside the bed. Her eyes opened as the cell door opened.

Vosper nodded towards the Doctor. 'He's still with us, then?'

Jo yawned. 'Sorry you're disappointed.'

'You watch your lip,' growled Vosper.

'How about some breakfast?'

'What do you think this is a holiday camp?'

'He's not going to be much use to the Master if he doesn't get some food, is he? You weren't told to starve us to death, were you?'

'All right, all right,' said Vosper, worn down yet again by Jo's insistence. He called outside the cell. 'Charlie, nip along to the kitchens and rustle up some grub.' He looked down at the Doctor. 'Though from the look of your mate here, I very much doubt if he's going to need it.'

He went out, slamming the door behind him.

The Doctor opened his eyes and sat up, beaming at the astonished Jo. 'Well done, my dear. Now maybe we can do something about getting out of here.'

In the courtyard, a ragged line of armed prisoners was a.s.sembling by the prison's Black Maria, watched by Mailer and the Master. Having finally convinced Mailer that his scheme was a practical one, the Master was now using all his eloquence to convince Mailer's men.

'And remember,' he concluded, 'if you succeed, this operation will be your pa.s.sport to prosperity and freedom anywhere in the world. Good luck to you all!'

Naturally, the Master was lying. He had told them that once the missile was in his hands he intended to use it to blackmail the Government, gaining free pardons and millions in cash for them all to share.

But in fact, the Master had no such intention. Once the missile was in his hands, he intended to fire it, bringing all the horrors of war upon the world.

Once that happened, the Master would no longer be concerned with the fate of Mailer and his men or indeed, with that of the entire population of the Earth.

Unaware that he was no more than a disposable p.a.w.n in the Master's schemes, Mailer shouted, 'Everyone got the picture? Right then, let's go!'

They all climbed into the Black Maria and it drove away.

11.

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