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FRINGES: ONE OF THOSE DAYS - PART 4
"Aliens?" said Broyles.
He regarded the gummy-faced Doctor, who was reclining in the leather chair, absently fiddling with his long scarf.
"Ogri," said the Doctor. "Silicon based lifeform from Tau Ceti. They have the most appalling manners." He fixed Broyles with a watery gaze. "They survive on hemoglobin, you know."
"Blood," said Broyles.
Behind the Doctor, Olivia stood with her arms crossed. "So basically we're dealing with space vampires."
The Doctor glanced behind him, frowning. "Goodness, no! And thank heaven for it!"
Before the conversation could continue, there was a wrap on the office door. Frowning, Broyles watched as his door was opened and his secretary stuck her head inside.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Broyles, but there's a gentleman here who insists he speak with you right now."
Broyles frowned. "Send him in, Jean."
Jean stepped back, allowing an elderly man to step into the room. He must have been in his seventies, with neatly trimmed white hair. Dressed in an immaculate gray suit, he walked with the aid of a cane. Despite this, he crossed the distance to Broyles's desk in swift strides, extending his hand.
"Mister Broyles. Please, forgive the interruption."
He turned to the oddly dressed Englishman, seated in front of Broyles's desk. "Doctor. It's good to see you again."
"You two know each other?" said Broyles.
"The Doctor and I have a history," said the newcomer.
"I"m sorry," said Olivia. "But, who are you?"
"Ah." The white-haired man smiled at Olivia. "Of course. Forgive my manners. Napoleon Solo, head of UNIT's North American Division."
"And why are you here, Mr. Solo?" asked Broyles.
"I thought that would be obvious, Mr. Broyles. Effective immediately, UNIT is taking over this investigation."
Author's Note: I have NO idea where this is going....
"Aliens?" said Broyles.
He regarded the gummy-faced Doctor, who was reclining in the leather chair, absently fiddling with his long scarf.
"Ogri," said the Doctor. "Silicon based lifeform from Tau Ceti. They have the most appalling manners." He fixed Broyles with a watery gaze. "They survive on hemoglobin, you know."
"Blood," said Broyles.
Behind the Doctor, Olivia stood with her arms crossed. "So basically we're dealing with space vampires."
The Doctor glanced behind him, frowning. "Goodness, no! And thank heaven for it!"
Before the conversation could continue, there was a wrap on the office door. Frowning, Broyles watched as his door was opened and his secretary stuck her head inside.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Broyles, but there's a gentleman here who insists he speak with you right now."
Broyles frowned. "Send him in, Jean."
Jean stepped back, allowing an elderly man to step into the room. He must have been in his seventies, with neatly trimmed white hair. Dressed in an immaculate gray suit, he walked with the aid of a cane. Despite this, he crossed the distance to Broyles's desk in swift strides, extending his hand.
"Mister Broyles. Please, forgive the interruption."
He turned to the oddly dressed Englishman, seated in front of Broyles's desk. "Doctor. It's good to see you again."
"You two know each other?" said Broyles.
"The Doctor and I have a history," said the newcomer.
"I"m sorry," said Olivia. "But, who are you?"
"Ah." The white-haired man smiled at Olivia. "Of course. Forgive my manners. Napoleon Solo, head of UNIT's North American Division."
"And why are you here, Mr. Solo?" asked Broyles.
"I thought that would be obvious, Mr. Broyles. Effective immediately, UNIT is taking over this investigation."
Author's Note: I have NO idea where this is going....
