A slim blond man sat silently, watching the footage of the Battle of Canary Wharf on his computer screen. Rose Tyler had fallen, just like he had known she would. Then why did he still feel the presence of two Time Lords in his mind?
He watched the security tape from Canary Wharf over and over, trying to find the moment when she was brought back. Finally, going frame by frame he saw it—trails of gold light sneaking through the Void just as it sealed shut.
He clenched one hand into a fist and jabbed at the button on his intercom. “Yes, Mr. Saxon?” his secretary said.
“Something urgent has come up that I need to deal with. Cancel all my meetings for the day.”
“But Mr. Saxon—”
“Cancel them,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.
Five minutes later, the Master strode past her desk without giving her a second glance. And why would he? She was just another human, under his thumb and beneath his attention.
Downstairs, his driver was waiting. “Take me home,” he ordered curtly.
The drive was painfully slow, with traffic on the M25 the same mess it usually was. Why did these humans ever think automobile traffic was a good way to travel from one location to another?
But finally he was at home. He tossed his briefcase down on the table in the foyer and strode for the basement, pulling out the key he always kept on him as he went. Through a series of locked doors, he finally came to his quarry.
The Doctor’s TARDIS glowed in the middle of the room. The Master leaned against the door for a moment, and then slowly circled around the blue box.
“You did it, didn’t you?” he said softly. “I tried to trap the Doctor’s bond mate in a parallel universe, but you reached through the Void and brought her back.”
The Master couldn’t truly communicate with this TARDIS, since it wasn’t his, but he was a strong enough telepath to sense the smug note in her hum.
He tsked. “I think you will come to regret interfering with my plans,” he said. “You were always going to be turned into a paradox machine, but now… Oh, now I’m going to make sure you feel every piece we strip from you, every screw that is wrenched out of place.”
The ship flickered her lights at him, and the Master knew exactly what she was saying. “You think your Time Lords will rescue you?” He sneered. “I have a trap laid for them that they will not be able to escape. True, I would rather have taken the Doctor alone—a miserable, mourning Doctor would be so much more fun to play with—but the trap will hold two just as easily as it would one.”
He walked back to the door, turning around to look at the ship one more time before leaving the room. “If you are as fond of this human-Time Lord hybrid as you seem to be, you should have left her in the parallel universe. Bringing her back has only put her within my grasp.”
The Master’s lips twisted in a satisfied smile when the ship’s hum took on a concerned note. The sound grew louder as he walked away, but he left the room and locked the door without looking back.