'I'm here in the CinC, with a Tomahawk programmed and ready for launch.'

'Why? Have you seen the right side?'

'You could say that. Would you say you were protecting the world? Your Cortez Project, I mean.'

'Of course. 'What did he know of the Cortez Project? Hopefully only what the Smith woman might have told him. She dreaded to think what the aliens might have got from Barry's team's minds. It was another reason why they would have to be destroyed.

'Ah. Because, you see, I was just wondering what certain nations think of certain actions. For example, if a Chinese officer and an Australian one were to hijack an American ship and fire a nuclear missile into the centre of, say, Tehran, what would happen?'

'You're joking?' Tsang's voice was horrified.

'I never joke about weapons. Death is no joking matter. When this missile launches, you'll suffer a level of terrorism unprecedented even on your planet. Alliances forged against you, sanctions, boycotts, bombings bombings'

'You won't do it. I've read your file, Doctor.' Tsang calmed herself. Perhaps she could yet talk him round, make him see why the visitors to this planet had to be eliminated. If that failed failed She had received training in many things, both from the legitimate UNIT and from the Cortez Project. There had been training in how to resist interrogations and brainwashing. There had been training in how not to give away valuable information. And there had been training in how putting the project first could help delay the natural psychological reactions to implementing those techniques.

She hoped things wouldn't go that far, but if they did& she would put the Cortez Project first. It was vital that the project and its members be protected, for there would always be more visitors to take care of.

The Doctor turned from the weapons console with a look of grim satisfaction on his face. 'Too late. The countdown's already running. Give up control of the bridge or your countries become global pariahs.'

'Sarah told me all about you and your file tells me too. You won't do it.'

'Sarah probably also told you I couldn't be the head of the Tao Te Lung. In thirty seconds you'll know whether she was right.'

On the bridge Tsang and Barry watched the countdown tick past twenty-five twenty-four twenty-three twenty-five twenty-four twenty-three 'All right! Stop the countdown,' Barry yelled. 'All right! Stop the countdown,' Barry yelled.

'Tell your friends to come out unarmed first, and hand the ship back to Captain Davis.'

Davis jumped at the sound of a shot. Barry, looking surprised, slumped to the floor with a hole in his head. Tsang then put down Nomura. Gibson and Harris turned their guns on her but were too late to save their skins.

Davis was sure he was next but Tsang was more interested in the intercom. 'There are more than just my group, Doctor. You can't stop all of us. We're everywhere.' Then she spat out something that sounded like 'di-lei-mo-ne' and blew the side of her head off.

She toppled from the captain's seat, her pistol falling from her hand.

Tom spoke for the first time in several minutes, startling Yue Hwa who had all but forgotten about his prisoner.

'Now abort the countdown,' Tom insisted. The numbers were slipping away faster than heartbeats. Seven& six& five& 'Stop it,' he pleaded. 'You can't do this.'

Three two two one one zero. Tom screamed, 'No!' zero. Tom screamed, 'No!'

There was a sudden raucous silence. No clouds of smoke burst forth from the launching tubes.

'You're right,' the Doctor said, cheery again as he straightened and tipped his hat. 'I couldn't.' His expression grew colder. 'You think might makes right, and that the use of the gun solves any problem. Kill the bad guys, if you can decide who they are. The ability to kill is such great power to you.'

He rounded on Tom with something that wasn't quite a snarl, but was dangerously close to it. 'But you forgot the most important power that any weapon gives you. Not the ability to kill a man or lay waste to a planet. The greatest power of any weapon is the power not to use it. That's the power that defeated you, and the Cortez Project, today.'

The sea heaved, bulging upwards as the sunken spacecraft broke free of the surface to take flight once more. Sea-water rained across the cruiser's deck as the dulled metal oval stabilised itself.

The Qe'shaal steadied herself then began to bank, curving away out from under the gigantic warships and into an escape trajectory. Davis and the others had never seen anything quite like it. Then there was a flash and it was gone.

The three larger alien ships remained stationary, a light cloud dispersing against one of them. They showed no sign of moving, but held station, humming so deeply that Davis could feel it in his bones.

" The The ah ah vehicle that just launched is out of radar range,' Lieutenant Cunningham reported. vehicle that just launched is out of radar range,' Lieutenant Cunningham reported.

At the same moment, the pitch of the hum that filled the air deepened. For a moment, Davis was sure that just about anything could happen, almost all of the possible outcomes bad for his ship, his country and his world.

Then the gigantic sword of Damocles that hovered above them began to rise. All three of the gargantuan ships floated upwards as lightly as a child's balloons. In a matter of seconds they had gone, leaving only ruptured clouds in their wake.

'Will they come back?' Davis asked.

The Doctor tilted his head, pondering for the benefit of his audience. 'Not unless you give them reason to.'

Tom awoke in a cell, choking back a scream that wanted to burst out of him. He could still smell Sarah's blood on his hands, or imagined he could, and shivered.

The previous night had been a nightmarish turnabout: his vision misting red as Sarah fell, then a dizzying rush to the ship's infirmary. He remembered no voices, though people were shouting around him. All he heard were the monotones of flat-lining instruments in a room that turned slowly around him.

Then he was here, where he belonged.

And so it was done. All that remained was for the news reports to be edited and the documentaries made. And, of course, books to be written. For once the history would be written not by the victors - whoever they were - but by those who simply remained. None of the stories would be attributed to Sarah Jane Smith.

Epilogue.Freedom Across the street, a hawker was selling little songbirds, their cages decorating an old tree. A few of the birds were sitting in the tree uncaged.

The hawker's assistant was stalking them slowly, efficiently scooping them up and transferring them into little cages for the tree.

The Doctor fed little nuts to his songbird.

The Doctor opened the wooden cage happily, gently wooing the songbird out. It sang as it emerged;" took to the air on the sweetest of notes. The Doctor watched it for a moment with an expression that suggested he enjoyed the bird's freedom almost as much as it did.

'I know how it feels,' Sarah said, beside the Doctor. 'Freedom not to look over my shoulder all the time: 'Yes It all worked out in the end.' It all worked out in the end.'

'All?'

'I knew you'd force the renegade UNIT team into the open. I didn't expect them to be so organised, though though'

'Digging up the rest of the Cortez Project will be a long job. Who in UNIT can be trusted?'

'Alistair.'

Sarah grinned. "Well, apart from him - he goes without saying: 'I trust you, for one.'

'Then I'd better work hard to live up to that.'

'You always did, Sarah. No hard feelings about the the?'

'To paraphrase an old TV show, we both love it when a plan comes together.' She stood up. 'I'd better go - my flight to Geneva leaves in two hours.' She smiled, then turned and walked away.

'No goodbyes?' he asked. 'Have you started liking them?' The Doctor shook his head.

The birdseller had worked the same patch for thirty-four years, and had seen this little man a few times lately. He always came to the bird stalls alone, and today was no exception. He called himself 'the Doctor' when he chatted with the birdseller. He bought a bird as usual, and sat down alone as always.

The birdseller watched him for a moment, sitting by himself on his bench.

Then the Doctor stood, tipping his hat to his feathered friend. 'Goodbye Sarah,' he said. The birdseller hadn't heard him give the birds names before, even though he was a repeat customer.

When the Doctor walked away, he had a little more bounce in his step than he had when he arrived.

Soon after he was gone, the bird settled onto a nice little branch on the tree of cages. Soon it would be fed, and sheltered, until the next person who wished to trade for a moment of song.