ENEMY WITHIN
Chapter 5 "...This is Trinity Welles reporting for AMN live from our newsroom in Washington. Minutes from now, it is believed that President Obama will be reluctantly issuing a statement cautioning American citizens against travel to Great Britain. This comes in the wake of a deadly new flu epidemic in every major city in the United Kingdom, including cities in Ireland and Scotland. As we reported earlier, our sources say that so far, what is being called the London flu, is responsible for just under a hundred deaths. Republicans in the senate have expressed concerns that this may be a new form of germ warfare by terrorists, and both they and Homeland Security are said to be urging the president to consider an all out ban on anyone coming into this county, from anywhere within the borders of Great Britain. Including Americans returning home to the U.S. from vacations or business trips abroad. In just a moment we will take you over to the president's press conference in the Blue Room of the White House..." Sylvia was stood there, feeling isolated and helpless, looking through the window of the intensive care room. She stared at Wilf, who was now hooked up to tubes, various machines and a breathing apparatus. Through the glass, Sylvia could vaguely hear the quiet, persistent beeps and clunks of the machines which were helping to keep him alive. He looked almost fragile; gray and drawn, as he fought to breathe. A shadow of the man who was her father. Laid out on the white bed sheet, appearing horribly, like a corpse on a slab. "Oh dad." She whispered, pressing her hand against the glass, "Not you too. Please. Please don't go. I need you. Donna needs you. I...I love you, dad." The Doctor and Donna were taken to a side door of one of the hangars. The guard opened it and silently gestured with his gun that they were to go through. Inside, the hanger was brightly lit. A private jet, matching the description of the one Wilf gave them, stood alone in the centre of the floor. The overhead lights gleamed against it's shiny white surface. A set of airline steps led up to an open passenger door. "Alright you two, get in." The Guard said, still menacing them with his revolver. "The boss wants to meet you." "In where?" Donna asked. "The plane, boss, the plane!" The Doctor said, pointing at the jet and mimicking a character from an old American television series. "I always wanted to do that." He smiled, pleased with himself. The guard was less than amused. He roughly shoved the Doctor forward, dragging Donna along by the arm, up the metal steps. "I said get in there!" He shouted. "Ow!" Donna protested, as he pulled her arm too hard. "Watch it, mister. Or your next job will be singing in a boy's choir." . The Doctor turned abruptly and faced the guard, his face no longer holding any hint of amusement in it. Even though he made no aggressive moves, there was a hint of dark menace to his eyes, which made the guard actually back off a step. "Let me give you a word of advice. Don't hurt my friend." The Doctor quietly told him."Oh. And I think an apology is in order." "I don't have to..." the guard snarled. "He's right, Billy Bob. Apologize to the lady." Came a smooth, cultured female voice from the doorway of the jet. "That is, if you want to keep your job...and certain other things." It was an older, aristocratic looking woman, dressed in a smart business suit. She smiled at the Doctor and Donna. "I'm sorry about all of that. I'm afraid our young man is nothing but a frustrated commando reject. He was trained by some American para-military organization. Tends to get a bit carried away . However, he' is usually quite good at intimidating people, so I keep him around. I did notice, that he doesn't seem to have that effect on you two. How terribly fascinating. I think I should get to know you better." A clearly unhappy Billy Bob tugged on his hat and said stiffly, "Sorry, ma'am." She gestured to the open door. "Please, won't you join me? Billy Bob," She addressed the scowling guard. "You can stand down. I'm perfectly safe. Go...clean your gun or something. And see to it that we're not disturbed." The woman had them sit at the back of the plane, on a set of comfortable chairs which were grouped around a small table. Playing the gracious host, she offered them coffee and biscuits, before getting down to business. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Smith. Or should I just call you, 'Doctor'?" The woman said, after taking a sip of coffee. Trying to hide his surprise, the Doctor cleared his throat, crossed his legs and said, "Doctor...who? I'm sorry. I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else." Donna wasn't so quick. Her mouth dropped open and she glanced nervously at the Doctor. "You are the Doctor? The alien with many faces, whose ship looks like an old-fashioned police box?" The woman asked in a, relaxed, friendly manner. "I'm guessing you prefer to travel incognito, but I'm rather afraid your mode of transport will tend to give you away. Unless of course, you happen to land outside of a police museum." "And, if I'm correct," The Doctor said, giving up all pretense of denying his identity, "Since you know about me, you're with Her Majesty's Secret Service. And you are...?" "You can call me Marjory. Nice work with the Titanic last Christmas, by the way." The woman said. "You mean my friend Veena was telling the truth about that?" An astonished Donna asked. "I have a feeling you and your friend are here for the same reason I am. This flu epidemic is no accident of nature." Marjorie continued, choosing not to answer Donna. "You mean it is terrorists?" Donna said, thinking of Wilf and the rest of her family. Meanwhile, the Doctor had gotten out of his seat. Slipping on his glasses, he got out his sonic screwdriver. The Doctor began walking around the plane, pointing the sonic and checking readings every few minutes. "No. Not this time." Marjory shook her head. "Forgive me, but you are...?" "Donna. Donna Noble. I'm a friend of the Doctor's." She said. "My granddad has this flu thing. The Doctor's trying to help. I don't understand. If this thing didn't happen on its own, and it's not a terrorist plot, what is it?" Donna asked. "It appears to be a combination of corporate greed and blackmail. On an unprecedented scale." Marjory answered. "Oh, I think it may be much, much more sinister than that." The Doctor said. Both women turned and gave him their full attention. "What can possibly more 'sinister', as you put it, Doctor, than threatening millions of innocent lives for profit?" Marjory asked, raising an eyebrow. "This is the jet used to spread the infection in London." He said, pocketing his specs and the sonic. Sitting back down in the chair, the Doctor leaned forward and looked over at Marjory. "There's minute, and thankfully harmless traces of it inside the plane. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to find that there's tanks of the stuff in the hold, or stored somewhere nearby. It's inert in its present state. I think it must need some sort of catalyst to activate it upon release in the air. Thing is, according to my readings, there's only one planetary system this virus originates from. And it's not yours. Mind you, I'd have to do a more extensive analysis in the TARDIS to be one-hundred percent certain, of course." "You mean aliens are responsible for this?" Donna asked him."Why? What for?" "I've no idea." The Doctor said, "But I intend to find out. I want to go back to the TARDIS and see if I can narrow down the origins of this virus. Maybe I can find a cure of my own. Which, if I do," He looked at Marjorie, "I would give to you. No charge. Donna," He got up and stood next to Donna's chair, "while I'm working on that, maybe you could go and check out that office trailer. " "I've already done that, Doctor." Marjorie told him, standing and looking at Donna skeptically. "I didn't find anything incriminating in there." "I believe you. However in this case, Donna's got one advantage you don't have." The Doctor asserted. "And that is?" Marjorie asked, raising an eyebrow. "She's the world's best temp." The Doctor grinned, giving Donna a wink. "Trust me, if there's anything out of order, she'll find it." "That's me." Donna smiled, standing up. "Super-temp!." "Would you mind telling me how you plan on..." Marjorie began to say. Without warning, the door to the plane slammed shut. Startled, they all looked, but could see nothing that would cause it to abruptly close like that. The Doctor instinctively moved closer to Donna. Alarmed, everyone looked out the windows for some sign of the person or persons who shut the door. The Doctor ran over to it. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. The sonic turned out to be of no use, and when he tried using physical force, all the Doctor got for his efforts was a sore shoulder. "We're trapped!" Donna cried out. "Marjorie, is there another door on this plane somewhere?" The Doctor asked her. "Not that I'm aware of." She told him. "Maybe we can get out through the cargo hold." The Doctor said. Then, all the lights inside the hangar snapped off. There were still lights on inside the plane. Yet, one by one, they too, dimmed and cut out. Almost inaudibly at first, the three of them heard a soft hissing noise. The Doctor slipped a small torch out of his pocket. He shone it around the interior of the plane. Following the noise to its source, he found himself alongside one of the seats near the front of the plane. He turned the beam of the torch up towards the ceiling. Donna and Marjorie came up to see what the Doctor had found. In the torch light, they saw a small cloud of white vapor escaping from an air conditioning vent over one of the seats. As the three of them were stood there, they heard more hissing from other vents all over the interior of the plane. In minutes, the Doctor knew, the plane would begin to fill with a virus-bearing vapor.
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