OOC / Yates Digest / Deadly Reunion
Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, Commanding Officer of the British section of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, skimmed through the rest of the file in mounting irritation, then slammed it down on his desk.
'Captain Yates!' he bellowed.
'Sir!' The slim young officer appeared from the outer office with magical speed, almost as if he'd been waiting for the call.
'This is what the modern army is coming to,' thought the Brigadier, who was in a foul temper. He studied Captain Yates with disapproval. Thin, sensitive face, uniform too well- tailored, hair a fraction too long. Looked more like a poet or an intellectual than a soldier.
In his better moods the Brigadier knew perfectly well that Yates was a lot tougher than he looked, and extremely efficient at his duties. But at the moment he didn't feel like being fair. Why should he when everyone was persecuting him?
The Brigadier thumped a fist down on the closed file. 'Why is this file on my desk?'
'Which file is that, sir?'
[…]
By alien, Yates knew, the Brigadier meant extra- terrestrial. The Brigadier was still reluctant to formally admit the existence of alien lifeforms - despite having encountered several very unpleasant specimens.
Yates sighed. It was hard enough to get the Brigadier to admit the reality of some alien menace when it was landing spaceships on his lawn or trying to bite his head off. Persuading him to admit the significance of the UIF file wasn't going to be easy. He tried to ease into the subject.
[…]
The Brigadier thumped the report again. 'I've served in Intelligence for some years, Captain Yates. I've a rough idea of how the system works. The process produces limitless amounts of bumph like this!'
Yates winced but persevered. 'Recently CICH set up a new programme - the Unexplained Incidents File. Things that didn't seem to have any logical explanation. Naturally we get a copy.'
'Helping to drown us in yet more useless paperwork,' growled the Brigadier.
'Not necessarily useless, sir,' said Yates obstinately.
~
Yates nodded, accepting the verdict. During the series of painful and awkward interviews he'd realised that Benton was a lot better at this sort of thing than he was. Yates himself found it hard to get through to strangers, especially those of a different class. But people liked and trusted Benton, responded to his genuine interest and concern. They talked to him. And the big, bluff sergeant was a surprisingly sensitive judge of human nature. He'd have known if he was being lied to.
~
Yates watched curiously as she flirted briefly with a big labourer, downing pints at the bar. As she leaned forwards, distracting his attention, the bearded little hippy hovered nearby.
Yates saw his hand hover briefly over the labourer's glass and then move swiftly away. The girl blew the labourer a kiss and moved on as well.
Yates jumped to his feet and ran to the bar. 'Don't touch that beer, that girl's friend put something in it.'
The bemused labourer swung round. 'You what?' 'Don't drink that beer. Give it to me, I'll get it analysed.'
'Bollocks,' said the labourer. 'You buy your own beer.'He raised the glass to his lips. Yates knocked it from his hand and the labourer knocked him down.
A big hand tapped the labourer on his shoulder.
He turned. Sergeant Benton said, 'Sorry, mate,' and dropped him with a savage left hook. He reached down and hauled Yates to hie feet.'You all right, sir?'
Yates shook his head to clear it and raised his voice. 'Listen everybody! Don't touch your drinks. These hippy types have been putting something in them. Some kind of drugs, maybe even poison. Hang on to them, don't let them get away. Landlord, call the police.'
Nobody moved. Suddenly the big hippy erupted out of the crowd, grabbing Yates by the throat. 'I'll do for you, you interfering nonce!'
Yates broke the choke-hold by swinging his clasped hands upwards between his attacker's arms. He hit the hippy hard on the nose, producing a fountain of blood.
Ignoring the blood, the hippy came at him again. Benton grabbed him by the arm and flung him across the room - straight into a quiet little man drinking a bottle of Guinness at a corner table. Table and Guinness went flying and the quiet little man stood up and hit the hippy on the head with his chair. The hippy fell backwards into a table full of drinks.
Fights started all over the bar and Yates turned to the landlord. 'Now will you call the police?'
[…]
'And then the police turned up and arrested us,' said Yates indignantly. 'Said we'd started it.'
They were standing, a little bedraggled, on the carpet (in more ways than one) in front of the Brigadier's desk.
'Well, we did in a way,' said Benton fair-mindedly. 'With the best possible motives, sir' he added hastily.
'At which point you produced your UNIT credentials?'
'We had to sir.' said Yates. 'It was that or spend a night in jail.''May I remind you Captain Yates, that we are a secret organisation. It does little for our prestige in the Intelligence community II I have to go down to Bow Street to bail out two of my agents after a drunken brawl.'
'Yes, sir.' said Yates.
'Sorry, sir,' said Benton. The Brigadier glared at them a moment longer and then said, 'All right, at ease. Sit down both of you.’
~
The Doctor made a last despairing appeal. 'Brigadier, please, you mustn't do this! I won't let you.'
The Brigadier's face hardened. 'Captain Yates, Sergeant Benton, carry on with the operation as planned. If the Doctor gives you any trouble, place him under arrest.'
Suddenly the Brigadier staggered and reached for the map table to steady himself. For a moment his face was haggard with exhaustion. Then, with a mighty effort, he straightened up.
'Are you all right, sir?' asked Mike Yates.
'Perfectly all right, thank you, Captain Yates. Just a little tired. I shall he in my room. Inform me of any fresh developments immediately.' The Brigadier turned abruptly and marched out of the room. There followed a moment of embarrassed silence.
Then Mike Yates said,' Sorry about that. The Brigadier isn't quite himself, he's a bit - hyped up.' He looked apologetically at the Doctor. 'All the same, orders is orders.'
'All right, Mike,' said the Doctor wearily. 'You won't have to arrest me, I won't give you any trouble.'
'He's not well,' said Jo. "Threatening to arrest the Doctor like that. Can't you take over command, Mike? Declare him non compos mentis or something?'
'I'd get shot,' said Yates simply.
'Mike's right,' said the Doctor. 'In military terms the Brigadier's behaviour is perfectly normal. The trouble is, we're not dealing , with a normal military problem.'
~
'There's that mound sir, just to one side of the field,' suggested Mike Yates. Like all good soldiers, he'd studied the terrain. 'Some kind of ancient monument, it's called Hob's Hill. We could get there round the back, over the fields. There's some kind of track, according to the map. I reckon the Jeep and the truck could make it.'
~