Quickest Way In, Quickest Way Out?

By any chance was there a tunneling project that failed where that bridge now stands? Inquirer finishes up.

Meanwhile . . .

Sigin

"Did we really have much choice in the matter after you showed up and went berserk?" I growl in a voice more fitting the form I'd just shifted out of vice the human seeming I'm in now.

Despite him towering over me, the rather unexpected (and unwanted) Edward Hyde swallows and nods, evidently still rather intimidated by me. By what he'd seen and what I'd had to do to prevent the rest of us from being swarmed over whilst he had smashed and bashed about!

He'd endangered us all, you know. So forgive me if I'm not too sympathetic towards Hyde!

It would have been bloody nice for Bond to have told the rest of us that Jekyll turned into Hyde without a potion! If I'd known that now ANY stress would bring . . . In this case seeing the "Doctor" (Fu Manchu if I recall Victorian literature correctly) writing poetry on Ho Ling . . . in caustic ink!

. . . .

God help us all if B'Elanna hadn't been there to lend a hand with phasor. Even WITH Dragonfear there must have been some there hopped up on some kind of dope because enough still came . . . instead of running and diving off into the water to get away from me!

That or the almost religious awe I saw them have for the man out cold at our feet!

. . .

Things had been sticky when we'd gone in to find Ho Ling. The management had been . . . suspicious and what served as security (men with knives and other cutting instruments) . . . menacing. Then, God have mercy, I and Allan saw through an open door to the back what was happening in there! Despite that . . .that travesty, Allan and I had been doing--in MY opinion--a fine job at talking ourselves out of trouble UNTIL Dr. Jekyll . . .

All Hell broke loose.

In the end, I had to shift form (risking collapsing the shop into the water it was built over with my bulk) and fly us all OUT to safer climes!

Hyde I'd just grabbed in my claws and carried him along, bellowing in surprise (and a bit of fright) all the way.

. . .

As for Allan . . . Lord in His Heaven, it is a GOOD thing I have such a way with words (wrote all those works--those that hadn't gotten mangled in order to better sit with the human Powers that Be-- that Shakespeare got credited with), else I'm sure that he would have opted on staying behind in fear instead of riding off with me on my back!

Now, as to exactly why B'Elanna had floated Fu Manchu behind us after she'd stunned him . . .

She told me it was elfin intuition but I think that like my love B'Elanna SHE wanted to get this over and done with! A decapitation strike (taking the leadership of the opposition) I feel is why she did it.

Being that she's a "good guy" means, of course, she was not going to murder the . . . rather evil man while he slept, though. Thus why just capture instead of kill.

Anyway, now we are in what I would place as Hyde Park (though I think they call it something else at this place and time), without anyone around (I scared them all off).

I am Dragon. I know that . . . my kind in natural form CAN be . . . rather frightening.

Soon enough word probably will get back to MI-5 (Bond's place). Maybe (if we wait long enough) troops will be mobilized to find the . . . .monster in London.

I plan to make myself scarce before my human seeming and my natural form are connected as belonging to the same entity, thanks!

"You alright now, old chap?" I ask, turning back towards Quatermin.

He's still breathing heavily in reaction to it all, but at least he's not flinching away from my presence.

"Elves and now dragons," he finally manages to say in a slightly distracted voice. "You . . . . were not jesting when you hinted about your non-humanity."

"Well," I say, trying to lighten the moment a bit. "I am humane enough not to eat other sentients, unlike so many of my Western kin who had blackened all of dragonkind's name. Never ate a damsel, in distress or otherwise."

Allan and Hyde manage a short, nervous laugh both.

. . .

Sigh, I am Dragon and I fear that I can have that effect on people when the truth comes out like this. . .

"Hey, I do not eat friends and associates," I say, still a little hurt. "My word as a gentleman and a member of good standing of the Church?"

Allan blinks at the last part, obviously recalling from Sunday church teachings about . . . certain fallen archangels being called "The Dragon". How dragons have a certain . . . rather non-Christian . . . .

Well, I'm not touching that one.

AT least not right now and here.

Sigh.

"Time to face the music," I mutter in my native tongue (Dragon as humans call it) as I pull out a communicator (ala Star Trek: TNG) and tap it to talk with the others.

They'll probably want to know about THIS.

If nothing else, we at least PROVED that our adversary exists (and not some kind of paranoid dream of Bond and the mysterious "M").

I contact the others (causing their communicators to vibrate because of their present agreed upon setting) and . . .

Well, after a quick chat and argument from some who think it is too . . . showy I fly those I'd landed in Hyde park (or whatever) back at where we'd left the TARDIS and board it. Inquirer has a feeling and when that Golem gets one of those . . . usually they are spot on. Speed in a necessity and to Blazes with pussy footing around any more. We're not going to go full tilt, guns ablazing, but a lot less niceties will be observed, thank you!

After picking up the Doctor at the Museum (and dropping off our sleeping "guest" with a flabbergasted Bond), I steer the TARDIS (Good GRIEF, is it hard) and materialize it right next to Inquirer and her group (in a out of the way alley, away from prying eyes).

Next stop: a certain mysterious chamber beneath a bridge, located by Inquirer's tricorders (which finally was close enough to locate a possible Cavorite signature). I am going to let the Doctor handle THAT feat of flying. Then take it by force of arms (heavy stun) if anyone objects down there and whiz away afterwards!

As for flying for awhile, no more TARDID travel!! At least not with ME piloting it!

1. Let me do my kind of flying the old fashion way: by my own wings! The Timelord is best for this next bit, thanks!

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