That done, and the mail sent, Borisovich sat back and picked up the phone.

'Irina? Get me a flight to Hong Kong for tomorrow; business class.'

The Doctor.

It was a name Sarah hadn't heard in a long time, but never forgot. His shadow remained on her no matter what. Wherever she went, sooner or later she would meet someone who knew him, or had met him, or had heard of him and wanted to know what he was really like.

Images rose unbidden in her mind. Other places and other times; creatures of wonder, creatures of horror. Freedom and terror. Half-remembered joys, and half-forgotten nightmares; the gaps filled by appropriate obfuscation and illusion, all hung on just enough truth to be the past of a life.

The TARDIS.'

'What?' Tsang asked, startling Sarah out of her reverie.

'At the Pimms Building, there was a police box. For a moment I thought it was the TARDIS, but they told me it was an antique box collected as an artwork.'

'It'd be a major coincidence if it was.'

People who had heard of him and wanted to know what he was really like& Sarah understood that Tsang filled this category. 'You've never met him, have you?'

'No,' Tsang admitted. 'But I've read every file that exists in the UNIT archives.'

'It's not quite the same thing. Files don't show you the mix of madness and genius, wit and stubbornness, humanity and other- ness ness The files don't make you laugh or make you cry, excite you or frustrate The files don't make you laugh or make you cry, excite you or frustrate you you' Sarah realised Tsang was looking at her in mystification. 'What I'm trying to say is that he's quite a handful to work with, but he always gets things set right in the end.'

'That, at least, I can believe.' Tsang frowned. 'Didn't you know he was here? Isn't that why you came?'

'No, I didn't didn't I wonder why he didn't say anything? I wonder why he didn't say anything? He must have known He must have known who I was' who I was' A thought occurred to her, which explained everything. 'Of course, he must be an earlier Doctor than I knew. He must not have met me yet!' A thought occurred to her, which explained everything. 'Of course, he must be an earlier Doctor than I knew. He must not have met me yet!'

That must be it. Why else would he ignore her and not reminisce about old times? Why else would he even lie about who he was? No, it must be an earlier Doctor.

Tsang seemed taken aback. The Doctor's multiple life spans affected some people that way. 'I know the files said he changed, and travelled through time, but I -' She broke off. 'Did Geneva send you? Or UNIT-UK?'

Sarah shook her head. 'Of course not. Why should they? I'm on a working tour for a news agency, writing a series of articles relevant to the Far East on a global -'

'We have reason to suspect an alien presence in Hong Kong,' Tsang interrupted. 'We had also requested that Geneva send us someone with a little more experience of such things.'

'You said the Doctor was here. Surely he's working with you.'

'Unfortunately not. The Doctor's situation here in Hong Kong is somewhat unusual, even by his standards.'

'He's in trouble, you mean.' Sarah continued before Tsang could answer. 'I wish I could say I was surprised, but he always had a talent for getting himself into a hole.' She smiled, remembering the good old days. 'You need help to get him out?'

'Yes,' Tsang said guardedly, in a way that immediately made Sarah's heart sink. Bad news was coming, and she could feel it; but what could she do other than play out the scene she had been brought here to play? Tsang's performance was just that, Sarah was sure: a performance, and more of one than most people played in public. 'That's about right.'

"Then of course I'll help.' The Doctor had been her best friend for several years. How could she not help?

'Firstly, we're looking for a box your friend Yi Chung might have. He took it from -'

'This box?' Tsang's eyes widened as Sarah put it on the desk.

'It certainly feels like some sort of alien technology,' Sarah continued, 'but nothing I've seen. You really ought to just ask the Doctor. I mean, even if he hasn't met me yet, he's still always the same man - a friend of humanity, never cruel or cowardly cowardly'

Something flitted across Tsang's face. If she hadn't known better, Sarah would have called it sympathy, or maybe even sadness. 'You really don't know the trouble he's in this time, do you?'

Sarah shook her head. 'What trouble?' she asked anxiously. 'Is he in some kind of danger?' If he was, the sooner she got involved, the better. She couldn't let the Doctor, of all people, stay in trouble. He'd saved her too many times for her not to feel obligated to return the favour.

'It's not that kind of trouble. The Pimms Import-Export Company is the front - and legitimate commercial arm - for the Tao Te Lung. That's a Triad, Miss Smith, with interests including drugs, arms smuggling and illegal immigrants.'

Sarah tried not to take this in. She knew where Tsang must be heading, but didn't want to hear it. It was impossible, she told herself. 'Pendragon means Head of the Dragon,' she said slowly. 'Leader of a war band.'

'Tao Te Lung means Way of the Dragon.'

'It's not a coincidence, is it?' Sarah asked, in a very small voice, feeling very alone.

'No. In Chinese, Head of the Dragon is lung tau. That's also a colloquial name for the Shan Chu of a Triad. The Doctor is the top man in the Tao Te Lung. He runs it.'

Chapter Nine.

Badfellos

Yi Chung's car smouldered on the crossroads while cops bustled around it.

They were keeping everybody well back from the overdone wreckage, letting the fire and ambulance crews pull out the roasting corpse and get it loaded for its trip to the morgue.

Yue Hwa didn't look at the wreck or the body. He'd seen enough of them before to know what they'd be like, so they held no interest for him.

The bystanders were a different matter. Some of diem looked as if they were enjoying the show, while others were angry. However they tried to hide it, he could see they were all shocked and scared by what had happened. He knew they were because he'd seen those expressions before.

It was the expression he'd seen on the faces in the crowd after those who could get out of Tiananmen Square had done so. They had all worn that expression then: defiant, surprised and utterly stunned.

Here in Hong Kong, nobody expected such a brutal shoot-out in the middle of their shopping trip. Back in Beijing, people had expected some kind of clampdown but not the tanks.

For once, Yue Hwa was glad he was separated from his wife and son.

Eight years ago, the shock and strain had been too much for their relationship. It wasn't one specific thing, just the stress of trying to decide how far was too far when both partners had similar political views but different scales of measurement.

Yue Hwa knew a sight like this would have had his wife wanting to return to Guangzhou if she'd been living in Hong Kong with him. Maybe he had changed, because he almost regretted still being here himself.

If given the choice, he'd have stayed in the office, but there was always a chance that the box Yi Chung had stolen was still here. If it was, he could always get a cop to sell it to him. It was a revolting idea, but if it was the only way to get things done done Sarah Jane Smith, a stranger in the strange land of Hotel.

The huge window of her suite had one of the most stunning night-time views in the world, but she didn't see it. There was no room in her thoughts for shimmering lights on the harbourside. Her mind was on the Doctor, and on Pendragon.

The Doctor couldn't be running a Triad. That was a given; she knew him better than she knew almost anyone else, and maybe better than anyone else knew him. She knew he was never cruel or cowardly, never greedy or anything like any gangster she'd ever heard of.

So something else must be going on.

She opened a notepad and started scribbling things down as they came to her, in the hope that it would all make sense if she worked with the data.

She wrote by hand, feeling that something so personal and troubling shouldn't be entrusted to something as impersonal as a laptop.

The Doctor was Pendragon. Pendragon ran the Tao Te Lung. He didn't acknowledge her. But how had the company got on her itinerary anyway?

She had never heard of it, and had assumed that the news agency had accepted a backhander to slip it in. The Doctor's presence, though, changed things. He must have at least known she was coming.

She scored that off. He was probably responsible for inviting her. He wanted her there, yet didn't acknowledge her. He knew she was curious and dedicated. He knew she wouldn't give up. If he didn't talk to her, it was because he couldn't. He was in trouble, trapped in his apparent position.

Her excitement grew as she realised he must have arranged for her to see him so that she could help to free him from whatever he'd got into.

Sarah's heart sank; she was assuming too much. Her appointment with him could still just as easily have been a business deal between a PR consultant for the company and her news agency. Her arrival could have been a surprise, even a shock, to him.

How could you get trapped into being the boss of a gang anyway? You could get trapped by upbringing or circumstance, but only if you had to live in that society. A man with a TARDIS couldn't be trapped into being a gang boss.

Freedom of choice meant he had had a choice.

She couldn't believe it, but had nothing else to believe. Numbed, she realised there was something familiar on the TV opposite. It was Yi Chung's car, in flames, with armed cops milling around. Shakily, she found the remote and turned on the sound. ' Road South today. The dead man, Road South today. The dead man, Hong Yi Chung, was being sought for questioning in connection with the Hong Yi Chung, was being sought for questioning in connection with the death of a Mr Wing earlier in the week. On the stock market today death of a Mr Wing earlier in the week. On the stock market today -' Sarah tuned the rest of it out. -' Sarah tuned the rest of it out.

Yi Chung dead? She had realised he was a street gangster, but couldn't help wondering whether or not that was what had got him killed. He had already feared for his life over Wing and the box, and perhaps he was right to do so. Maybe he died for that box.

The Doctor retreated temporarily to the back of her mind. Two people had died in probable connection with the box she'd given to UNIT, and she decided she wasn't going to be a third.

In an alternate hotel continuum, Tom Ryder.

He had been following Sarah all day, observing her movements and piecing together a profile of her. He liked her already. Apart from the first impression he had gained in Bangkok, he had her pegged down for determination and bravery. He liked that. In fact, he had pretty much decided that he would have liked to be a part of her life even if it wasn't part of his job.

He had unwound from his working day with a relaxing workout in the rooftop gym, then returned to his room and ordered a steak dinner from room service. His partner, George, was already asleep on his bed. He had also been working, though Tom always claimed to willingly take on the lion's share himself, and evidently it had tired him out.

When Tom turned on the TV he found an English-language news channel so that he could catch up on the rest of the day's events.

His meal arrived and he ate it in front of the TV. Most of the news was the usual stream of death and distress, until a familiar name came up: Hong Yi Chung. Tom paid more attention from then on; that was the guy in whose company Sarah had spent most of the day.

Tom sucked the juices from the steak he was chewing, but spat out the grey meat. It was a habit from his boxing days, to keep him in protein without putting on too much weight. He wasn't expecting trouble - at least he told himself he wasn't - but for some reason he just felt like he ought to be getting into shape. Just in case.

'What is the meaning of that atrocity?' Pendragon demanded, jabbing a finger at the huge widescreen TV in the boardroom. Only he, Yue Hwa and Tse Hung were present at the table, clustered at one end of it in the darkened room. On the screen, Yi Chung's car was caught in a moment of frozen time, the tape of the evening news interrupted in mid-flame.

"The situation is in hand,' Tse Hung said reassuringly. 'The thief, Ah Yi, won't be troubling us any more.'

Pendragon looked as if he wanted to strike him down on the spot with lightning but, as long experience had taught Tse Hung to expect, he did nothing except talk. Tse Hung still hadn't decided whether he thought Pendragon was capable of actually doing anything, especially anything that would get his hands dirty. 'Why did you deliberately ignore my instructions to avoid bloodshed?'

Tse Hung hated the way Pendragon sometimes got like this. It made him angry, and anger made him speak unwisely. 'Sometimes it isn't practical to be merciful.' He bit off the rest of what he intended to say, knowing it would just worsen the situation and eventually lose him face. 'Besides, it wasn't my doing: the police tried to arrest him. He fought back and they had to defend themselves.'

'They "had no choice", I suppose,' Pendragon suggested, his voice dripping with disgust.

'I'm not exactly one to support the police, am I?' Tse Hung pointed out. 'As it happens, it was at a fairly crowded crossroads -Austin Road and Chatham Road South. They tried to block his car in and arrest him, but he rammed them and started shooting. It's all over the evening news.'

Pendragon looked questioningly at Yue Hwa. If Tse Hung didn't know better, he'd think it was a search for approval. 'It's true,' Yue Hwa said. 'At least, it's true that he had a shoot-out with the police and that it's all over the news.'

Pendragon looked away, clearly not impressed with the explanations. Tse Hung found him a mystery, impossible to predict. He prided himself on knowing what those around him would do or say next - it made it easier to stay alive and wealthy - but Pendragon frustrated him at every turn.

He wondered why on Earth Uncle Tang had ever appointed Pendragon to head the organisation when he retired. Maybe it was because this unpredictability and frustration would extend to the police when they tried to do anything. Maybe it was because Uncle Tang had Alzheimer's and didn't know what the hell he was doing. Occasionally Tse Hung suspected that Uncle Tang might even have done it just to annoy him, knowing that answering to a gwailo would rankle enough with him to be revenge for some past misdemeanour. Tse Hung wouldn't put it past the old goat.

Pendragon had turned back, looking tired. 'I don't suppose he had the box on him at the time?'

'It wasn't at the site, 'Yue Hwa answered. 'The cops just might have it, but we bought the list of evidence recovered from the car from a cop. No sign of it.'

'Then it's lost lost which means UNIT probably have it.' Pendragon sounded disturbed, though it was often hard to tell with him. The guy was damn well inscrutable. which means UNIT probably have it.' Pendragon sounded disturbed, though it was often hard to tell with him. The guy was damn well inscrutable.

'There's one other possibility,' Tse Hung said. 'Yi Chung spoke to a reporter before his death. He may have told her about it, or even handed it over.'

'What reporter?'

'Some Englishwoman. I've never seen her bef bef' He frowned, a memory scratching outside the door. 'I have seen her before: here in this building.

She had an appointment with you.' Now there was a coincidence, Tse Hung thought.

'Miss Smith?'

'Yes! I'm sure it was her. I only caught a glimpse, but I'd swear to it.' An unlikely coincidence, and therefore unlikely to be coincidence. 'We should kill the Englishwoman.'

'No,' Pendragon snapped. 'No more killing. It's bad for business; even Al Capone once admitted that.'

Tse Hung couldn't argue with that. Nevertheless Pendragon needed pushing, as always, 'Then we'll give her a traditional scare; teach her a lesson.'

"That's fine,' Pendragon agreed, his features shifting in a way that usually meant he was already thinking about something else and hopefully losing track of the conversation that was ending.

Tse Hung hesitated, wondering if Pendragon actually knew what was meant by the traditional scare. He decided probably not; the gwailo would never have agreed to it otherwise. 'I'll see to it in the morning.' He rose. He had to get changed before his night out.

'Why not tonight?'Yue Hwa asked. 'You have a date?

'Yes.' Tse Hung grinned. 'With the Waking Bears.'

The helicopters came in low enough to shake the treetops, and spiralled into the centre of the logging camp. Both machines wore the colours and markings of UNTAC, which had administered the country before the 1993 elections. There were plenty of such choppers left in Cambodia, and they didn't attract undue attention.

The helicopters kicked up a storm of dust and woodchips which almost blinded Barry. He ducked under the spinning rotor-tips to greet the courier who was jumping from the first chopper. The man, wearing plain coveralls marked with the insignia of a UN mine-clearing team, had a briefcase chained to his wrist.

'Welcome to the final frontier,' Barry greeted him.

'Huh?'

Barry pointed to the ridge to the northeast. 'There be dragons. You got my order?'