Doctor Who BBC872 - To the Slaughter

The Doctor tore his dreamy gaze away and turned to the bank of bubblescreens.
Fitz and Trix needed finding, as well as the mercury. Surely some
of these must offer internal feeds, they couldn’t all be showing stock prices,
newscasts and. . .
Oh.
The woman from the boardroom – Tinya – was standing in the doorway.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here,’ said the Doctor.
Tinya came in and closed the door. ‘I think that’s my line.’
‘Nerren’s indisposed, I’m afraid.’ The Doctor beamed at her. ‘Can I make an
appointment for you with Mr Falsh on his behalf?’
‘Falsh is entertaining Aristotle Halcyon, Doctor.’
‘How jolly. Juggling beanbags, perhaps? A touch of tap-dancing?’ He
paused. ‘Are you going to scream for help?’
‘No.’
‘Then could I try?’ He peered behind her. ‘Ah, no need, here’s Fitz.’
Tinya smiled coldly. ‘He’s not, you know. He ran into the loading bay and
hasn’t come out again, there’s a lockdown in process. Security are searching
systematically.’ She took a careful step towards him. ‘Make it easy on yourself
and give up peacefully. I’ll make sure you’re well treated.’
‘Very kind.’
‘But you must tell me everything you have learned.’
‘Very predictable.’ The Doctor shoved his hands in his coat pockets. ‘Your
security people won’t find Fitz now, you know. Our craft is there, he’ll have
got inside.’
‘Your craft?’
‘Mmm, big blue box. I’ll show you if you like, and get out of your hair for
good. Well, as soon as –’
‘So now you’re happy to leave, are you?’ She smiled. ‘That tells me you’ve
got what you came here for.’
His voice hardened. ‘Believe me, I’ve got precisely nothing from my visit
here besides a pleasant view. All I’m after are a few drops of mercury. What
do you think I came for? Proof of this conspiracy against – who were they, now
– Blazar Demolition? Evidence of whatever it is you’ve destroyed on Carme?’
He paused, suddenly thoughtful. ‘You know, actually I wouldn’t mind knowing
a little more about that.’
‘Why else would I find you in Falsh’s office?’ She sneered, her cheeks straining
tight against the blades of her cheekbones. ‘People like you will always try
to stand in the way of progress.’
‘Well, progress would be wonderful if only it would –’ He pulled out his
sonic screwdriver and pointed it at her – ‘stop.’
She regarded it warily. ‘Be reasonable, Doctor.’
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