by Pythia
Disclaimer: neither of these dashing Captains belong to me, worse luck. Russell
T Davis created one, and Gerry Anderson the other ...
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“Just a
routine mission,” the Colonel had told him. It had looked like one too – a
simple pick-up somewhere in Wales. Adam had teased him about being sent on milk
runs, but Paul had welcomed the idea, relishing the thought of a trip without
high explosives, ticking time-bombs or even gunfire for a change.
He
should have known better.
The
meeting turned out to be an ambush, although the courier he’d been sent to meet
seemed just as surprised as he was when the entire top floor of their rendezvous
came crashing down on both of them. Fortunately it was late at night, and they
were the only two people in the building – but dying hurt, as usual, and coming
back was the inevitable bone cracking, muscle wincing moment or two that made
him curse the day he’d become indestructible.
The
building was, of course, a total wreck. So when the rubble beside him stirred
and the body of the courier he’d been sent to meet stood up with a groan, he
cursed and reached for his gun.
“Tell
me, Captain Harkness,” Scarlet asked, wondering if Colonel White had
known this might happen. “How long have you been a Mysteron?”
THE END
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