'Looks like they're as surprised as we are. Looks like they're preparing a welcome of their own.'

'What sort of welcome?'

'Well...' Charles paused, as if considering how best to phrase his thoughts. 'It looks like they're getting ready to blow the plane to Kingdom Come.'

19: Into the Darkness

Dust flew from the door as it shook violently under the impact. Again and again it shuddered and creaked and cracked as the creatures hurled themselves at it.

Fitz had been all round the room, but found no other exit. The remains of a fireplace had given him some initial hope, but the chimney was blocked solid with fallen rock and stone from the walls above. George had made a game effort to scramble up one of the ragged walls, hoping to reach a window and haul the others up to join him. But now his knees were bruised and his hands sc.r.a.ped raw with the effort. The highest he had managed to climb was about seven feet from the ground. The window was still ten feet above his head.

'Stupid design,' Fitz complained. 'I blame the architect. I'll have words with him when we get out of this.'

'If we get out of this,' George said sullenly. None of them seemed scared. They were frustrated and exhausted, but not yet terrified. Not while the door held.

The dusty remains of a tapestry hung above the broken fireplace. It was faded and torn, the image barely visible. It seemed to show a man on horseback, the horse rearing up, the soldier with his sword drawn. His face was grim and determined, as if he knew he was about to die.

It was a sentiment Fitz could relate to.

The door shuddered again and a large section of wood splintered off and flew across the room.

'Won't be long now,' Price said. 'Best arm ourselves.' He led them to the fire and they each picked the largest piece of wood they could comfortably wield. Then they turned to face the door, torches held ready.

After two more shuddering blows, the third did it. The wedges round the edge of the door gave way before the door itself. The whole wooden rectangle exploded inwards, falling end over end towards the fire and making Fitz, George and Price jump aside in alarm.

More alarming was the ma.s.sive brutish creature roaring with satisfaction in the entranceway. Behind it others struggled to push their way into the room, following impatiently as their leader stooped to get through the doorway. It dropped to all fours and padded surprisingly quietly over the threshold. Its heavy breath fogged the air as it shook its head in satisfaction.

'Now,' Fitz shouted. 'Drive them back.' If they seized the initiative, if they surprised and frightened the creatures, maybe they could still get out of this alive. He ran towards the huge beast, waving the flaming wood in front of him like a sword.

The creature reared up, perhaps in fear but perhaps just out of interest, as Fitz approached. George was beside him, Price close on their heels. The creature's head swayed in time with the swing of Fitz's torch, He lunged forwards experimentally and thrust the torch at the creature, relieved to see that it drew back from the flames.

But then the huge reptilian monster lunged towards Fitz. With a single ma.s.sive blow from one of its forelimbs the creature sent the torch flying from Fitz's grasp. It spun across the room, trailing dark smoke in its wake. Saliva sprayed his face as the creature roared and kept coming at him, mouth gaping, teeth dripping. With a cry, Fitz fell back.

Price was there at once, waving his own torch at the creature with one huge hand and dragging Fitz back with the other. George was yelling and lunging as well. Then they were scurrying back towards the fire. There were several of the creatures in the room now, dark eyes watching their prey keenly.

Fitz's torch had clattered to the floor on the other side of the room. It had skidded across the threadbare tapestry above the fire and a trail of flame licked down the material. Now it seemed as if the whole of the wall was burning.

It was a desperate thought, but it was the only idea that Fitz had right now. He ran to the fireplace and grabbed a surviving edge of the tapestry.

'Over here!' he shouted not to George and Price, but to the creatures gathering in the doorway. 'Oi, croc*face, come and get your din*dins if you want it.'

Ponderously, one of the creatures turned to look at Fitz. It tilted its head to one side, regarding him with what seemed like amus.e.m.e.nt. Its eyes glinted in the firelight. Fitz could feel the heat on his face, felt warm for the first time in what seemed like centuries.

The ma.s.sive reptilian form lumbered across the room. As it approached it gathered speed, its hind legs working faster until it was barrelling towards Fitz so fast he wondered if he had time to pull down the burning tapestry.

He yanked as hard as he could. Felt something give. From somewhere behind rum he could hear a sc.r.a.ping, grating sound of stone rolling over stone. But while the tapestry seemed to be lower than it had been, it did not fall. And the beast was almost on him. Ten steps away... Eight... Six...

He pulled again. Four steps away... Somewhere in the distance George and Price were shouting to him but they might have been in another world. Two steps away...

Then the tapestry was falling a solid sheet of flame collapsing towards Fitz. He leaped clear, rolled across the icy hard floor, twisted to see what was happening. In time to witness the ma.s.s of yellow flames fall across the head and shoulders of the creature that was turning towards him. It howled in surprise, then screeched in pain. Its head was shaking from side to side and it collapsed to all fours as it tried to shrug off the blanket of flame.

But to no avail. The smell was pungent, choking Fitz's nostrils, clogging his mouth as he tried to breath, as he tried to drag himself clear from the rampaging creature. It staggered away, blindly shaking. Screaming in fear and agony now as well as surprise. It lurched heavily across the room, retracing its steps, and blundered into the group of its fellows near the doorway. They leaped aside, trying to keep out of its way, calling to each other in annoyance and fear. Slowly, they retreated outside the door as the creature collapsed in front of the entrance. The fire had taken full hold now, its whole body wreathed with smoke and flame.

'How did you know?' George gasped as he helped Fitz to his feet. He was aware that his clothes were smouldering, that his face was scorched and his hands black.

'Everything's afraid of fire,' Fitz croaked, his throat sore from the heat.

'Not that,' George said. 'How did you know about the pa.s.sageway?'

'What?'

Price was pointing to a large, dark rectangle in the wall beside the fireplace, behind where Fitz had been standing. 'You pulled the tapestry,' he said. 'And it opened.'

'Come on then!' Fitz shouted as he pulled himself to his feet.

'Yes, what are we waiting for?' George was euphoric.

Price, however, seemed more thoughtful, wary. He was shaking his head. 'Who knows what's down there?' he said.

'Who cares?' Fitz told him.

'And they'll just follow us.'

'We can't stay here, can we?'

The blackened corpse of the dead creature was visible through the dying flames. And through the smoke that still rose from it, they could see the other beasts gathering in the corridor outside.

'If we all go, we'll all die,' Price said.

The first of the creatures leaped through the guttering flames and landed on its hind legs with an impact that made the whole room shake. A spattering of dust and fragments of stone showered down on to Fitz and the others.

'What are you saying?' Fitz demanded.

'You go,' Price told him. 'I'll hold them off as long as I can.'

'With what?' George yelled at him. 'You'll be killed for sure.'

'With the fire. Get as far away as you can, as quickly as you can.' He grabbed George roughly by the shoulder and hurled him towards the pa.s.sageway.

Another creature leaped through the struggling fire to join the first. Together they leaned forward eagerly, antic.i.p.ating the fight ahead and knowing how it must end.

'I'm staying with you,' Fitz told Price.

The huge man grinned at him, teeth glinting in the flickering light. 'You're leaving,' he said. 'Either now in one piece, or in ten seconds with a broken nose.'

Fitz blinked. 'Fair enough,' he decided. He stuffed his hands into his coat pocket in an attempt to seem nonchalant about it. His fingers grazed the rough metal surface of the grenade that Caversham had given him. 'This any use to you?' he asked, offering the grenade to Price.

The creatures were stalking towards them now. Others stepped over the charred fragments of the dead creature. One or two lowered their ma.s.sive jaws and ripped at its flesh.

'You keep it,' Price said. 'It might save your life, you never know.'

'What about your life?'

'I'm dead already. Now go' He pushed Fitz after George, who was already waiting for him inside the pa.s.sage.

Fitz turned back from the doorway 'Thanks,' he shouted. It was inadequate pathetic but the most he could do.

Price grinned back at him Then he took a ma.s.sive burning strut of wood in each hand raised them above his head and let out an almighty, defiant yell of rage.

The yell rang down the pa.s.sage after George and Fitz. It was still echoing in their ears as they ran full tilt into the darkness.

18: Unreasonable Excuses

'Where is Naryshkin?' Curtis demanded. He seemed far from well. His face had darkened, and his skin looked blotchy. His eyes were watering and he could barely stand.

'I'm afraid Comrade Naryshkin is indisposed,' the big man told them.

'I'm sorry,' the Doctor said politely, 'But I didn't catch your name.'

'Hartford,' the man barked. 'But you can call me "Sir".'

'Can't we get in out of this dreadful cold?' the Grand d.u.c.h.ess asked. They were standing on the runway by the side of the plane. The pilot had managed to stop it a few yards short of the end of the level strip. Skid marks reached back through the snow, showing where the plane had screeched to an eventual halt. The pilot and co*pilot were looking back at them as the Doctor, Curtis, Holiday and the Grand d.u.c.h.ess were led towards the castle entrance.

'Will we be able to take off again?' Holiday wondered.

'No,' Hartford told him shortly. 'But that's my decision, not a technical a.s.sessment.' He paused, raising his hand so that the two white*clad figures with the pilot and co*pilot could see him gesture. A short, chopping movement. 'And just to make absolutely certain...'

They all turned in time to see the pilot and his colleague crumple to the ground. The sound of the shots reached them moments after the bodies buckled and spasmed.

'What in heaven's name do you think you're you doing?' Curtis shouted. But his voice was weak and had lost its usual authority.

'Those were human beings,' the Doctor said. His own voice by contrast was dark and powerful. 'You have no right '

'I have every right,' Hartford cut him off. 'They were superfluous. And their deaths made a point.' He stepped towards the Doctor, snow whirling between them as they stared into each other's eyes. 'Are you superfluous, whoever you are? Do I need to make another point?'

'Where is Naryshkin?' Curtis asked again. His voice was husky and he swayed on his feet. Holiday moved to steady his arm.

'Who are you?' Hartford asked in reply.

Curtis looked surprised. Holiday answered for him. 'This is Mr Maxwell Curtis, the main benefactor and sponsor of this Inst.i.tute.'

'Indeed. And you?'

Holiday shrugged. 'I am his a.s.sistant. Holiday.' His eyes narrowed to slits. 'May I ask why you are here, sir what you intend?'

'I've had enough questions,' Hartford said. He nodded for the other armed men to take them inside. 'All the scientists are confined to their quarters. We will allocate you a room each. And you will stay there until I question you, or unless you have a very good reason to leave. Unfortunately I cannot spare the men to guard each room or to organise food and drink and other necessities. So we operate a trust system here. Betray that trust, and you die.' He smiled at the simplicity of it.

'What about the experiments? We have to finish the experiments,' Curtis said. He reached out, as if to clutch at Hartford's arm. But Holiday held him upright, and pulled him back.

'All experiments are suspended for the moment.'

'But you can't! Naryshkin must finish his work.'

'Why?' the Doctor asked quietly. But Curtis just stared blankly back at him, pupils large and black.

'No,' Hartford said firmly. He turned and entered the Castle. The armed men pushed the Doctor after him and the others followed.

'Please,' Curtis begged as they were led into a huge room what had once been the Great Hall. 'I have the Hanson Galloway journal with me.' He gestured weakly to Holiday who pulled the leather*bound book from his jacket pocket and handed it to Curtis. 'You can have it,' Curtis said. 'If only '

'I don't want it,' Hartford told him. 'I have no idea what you are talking about.'

As they spoke, a short, dark*haired woman pa.s.sed them. She edged uneasily past Hartford. 'I was getting a drink of water,' she said, her voice laced with nerves.

Hartford's eyes narrowed and he seemed to consider this. Then he nodded. 'Very well, Miss Dewes.'

She sighed audibly with relief and left the room.

'This is the dining area and kitchen facilities,' Hartford explained. He gestured*for a huge black man to come over. Like all Hartford's men, he was heavily armed.

'Thorpe here will show you to your accommodation. Leave it without good reason, and you'll answer to me.'

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess gave a polite cough.

'You are?' Hartford snapped.

'I am the Grand d.u.c.h.ess Alicia Romanov.'

Hartford raised an eyebrow, but seemed otherwise unimpressed. 'And what do you want?'

'I have a trunk with me. On the aeroplane. My luggage. It is labelled.' Hartford's expression darkened, but the d.u.c.h.ess went on: 'You would not deny an old woman what little vanity she has left?'

'Very well,' Hartford said. 'I'll have someone bring it to your room.'

'I have a large blue box that might ' the Doctor began.

'No.' Hartford said.