Free Doctor Who: Delta and the Bannermen by Malcolm Kohll Page A

Murray is fitting the crystal back into the bus and then your tour will be able to leave. But we must go now!’ he insisted, already heading back up the narrow path. He was closely followed by the others.
     
    At Shangri-La Murray had finally managed to install the navipod, and, after checking that it was again functioning correctly, slammed the hood with a grin. He gave a thumbs-up to Mel who let out a sigh of relief.
    You see, I’m not totally useless! Murray felt he had redeemed himself for nearly breaking the crystal. ‘Now everyone, get ready to board,’ he said authoritatively. The passengers assembled in a neat line while Murray produced a clipboard and pen. ‘When I call your name I want you to climb aboard – Adlon – Crovassi – Diptek – Ethnon – Frag
    – Gil – Herret – Keillor – uh, where’s Keillor?’ asked Murray. Mel leant forward and whispered into Murray’s ear, explaining that all that remained of the space mercenary was a pair of scorched blue suede shoes. Murray nodded. He did not wish to know the gory details and quickly continued with the roll-call.
    On the outer fringes of the galaxy Gavrok stared gleefully at the blipping light on his screen. ‘Transmitter identified. Triangulate and set course.’ He leant back into his stabilizing chair and smirked. He was relaxed in the knowledge that his mission was nearly completed.
     

Chapter Twenty-One
    Hawk finally removed the headphones with a look of disgust. ‘Ain’t no use, Weismuller. There’s nothing out there,’ he said, gesturing up at the empty sky.
    ‘Well, you know I’m not the sort to say “I told you so,”
    but...’ Weismuller had stopped mid sentence, his mouth hanging open. He was staring at something behind Hawk.
    There, silhouetted against the trees, stood the menacing black Bannerman fighter. Hawk blinked in disbelief before whispering, ‘Hey Weismuller. D’you think that’s it?’
    Weismuller turned and looked in the direction of the spaceship. He paused before answering, trying to make sense of the strange vessel. ‘Well, I don’t rightly know. I ain’t never seen a satellite before. I expected it to be smaller, somehow...’
    The hatch opened and Gavrok appeared in view. He unfurled the Bannermen standard and coldly surveyed the landscape before him. Unsheathing his blaster he stepped into the field; throwing back his head he let out an ear-splitting whistle. A column of half a dozen heavily-armed Bannermen responded by marching through the hatch and lining up behind him.
    ‘Listen Hawk, I dunno what’s going on here, but I reckon we should get outta here fast!’ said Weismuller, backing towards the Morris.
    ‘Yeah, for once I think you could be right,’ Hawk agreed, stumbling over the radio in his haste to get away.
    Suddenly Gavrok’s mournful horn blew across the valley. ‘HALT!’ he cried. Hawk and Weismuller froze.
    Within moments they were surrounded by the Bannermen.
    Weismuller was the first to speak. Putting on his most charming voice he said, ‘Hi... uh... we weren’t going anywhere.’
    ‘No, we thought maybe we’d just sit in the car for a while. But we’re not that fussy, I guess,’ Hawk added.
     
    ‘Where is the Chimeron Queen?’ barked Gavrok.
    Hawk shrugged, ‘Beats me, pal,’ he said.
    Gavrok gave a tiny nod. One of his men fired at the radio. When the smoke cleared, all that remained was a mangled piece of twisted scrap iron.
    ‘Hey, that’s the property of Uncle Sam!’ cried Weismuller in alarm.
    Gavrok turned his icy glance on Weismuller. ‘Where is he, your Uncle Sam?’
    Hawk raised a hand, saying, ‘No, you don’t understand...’ But he got no further. Gavrok gave another small nod and the tent caroomed into a massive fireball.
    ‘Boy, what are you so sore about?’ asked Weismuller, watching the scraps of burnt canvas fluttering away in the breeze.
    Gavrok levelled his gun at the American agent.
    Weismuller’s face drained of colour but Gavrok had