Doctor Who by Mike Tucker

Author:Mike Tucker
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781407023908
Publisher: Ebury Publishing

CURTIS RABLEY ZIPPED the holdall shut and glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting his dark glasses and wiping the beads of sweat from his brow. Satisfied that no one would give him a second glance amongst the hordes of tourists, he opened the door to his room, checked that the coast was clear and slipped out into the corridor.

Reprogramming the safe timer had taken longer than he had expected, and the longer he stayed in the room the more chance there was of someone finding him.

At one point, the phone next to O’Keefe’s bed had rung, and Rabley had practically jumped out of his skin. That was when he’d realised that he was running out of time. If someone was trying to get in touch with O’Keefe, that probably meant that the car had been found. He needed to get out of the dome, and quickly.

The lift arrived, and Rabley hurried inside. As it descended towards the lobby, he forced himself to relax. A lazy smile twitched the corners of his mouth. Despite himself, he was actually starting to enjoy this. Theft had always been like a game to him. A complex game of chess, positioning pieces so that, when the time came, everything was in place for a swift and decisive conclusion.

This game was going his way. All his pieces were in place. All he had to do was make his way to the airport, board a plane and he was away scot-free.

He was looking forward to spending O’Keefe’s money. He was fed up with being baking hot on some manicured beach or freezing to death in some crowded ski resort. He’d get himself a nice little place on the west coast of Ireland. A nice pub within walking distance, a nice view of the sea and a nice Irish girl.

His smile broadened. Even if that fool Bunta did suspect that he might have tried something like this, the man certainly didn’t have the imagination to look for him somewhere as low-key as Ireland. No, even if they suspected him, Bunta would assume that he’d fled to Cuba, or Vegas or the Bahamas.

When the lift doors opened, Rabley stepped into the foyer with a spring in his step. After a lifetime of people putting him down, Curtis Rabley was finally going to come out on top.

The Doctor slowly made his way along the deserted corridors of SnowGlobe 7, the light from his torch sending shadows dancing across the dusty floor. Behind him, Twelve’s methodical footfalls echoed alarmingly, and the Doctor began to wonder about the wisdom of trying to explore stealthily with a two-metre service robot in tow.

He continued to mull over the dozens of possibilities that could account for the presence of the creatures in the ice. He was certain in his own mind that they weren’t indigenous. That meant that they came from space. So far they had shown no sign of intelligence beyond an instinct for survival, which meant that they had either been brought to Earth by some other species or had arrived here by accident.

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