Mike’s head rolled from his shoulder to his chest, causing dust and rubble to cascade into his lap. There was dust, too, in his eyelashes, which now fluttered open, and powdering his face and jacket. Slowly, painfully, he raised his head. He blinked. Screwed up his eyes. His head hurt. Everything was coated a greyish white. What on Earth had happened?
He forced his eyes to focus. He was surrounded by rubble. That was odd. He had been in the Doctor’s room of UNIT HQ talking with Jo, but now… he… was…
He crawled forward, forcing his limbs to move. “Doctor? Brigadier?”
His movement caused the dust to move again, and he coughed hard. “Is anyone around?”
Back on his feet now, Benton jumped at the Captain’s voice, wincing slightly as his shoulder jarred. It wasn’t bleeding, so it could wait.
Even outside the Doc’s lab, the place looked like a bombsite - which was probably a fairly accurate description of what it was. He frowned, and hastened his navigation of the rubble-strewn corridor. Somehow, the door seemed to have just about survived, but it refused to open, even when encouraged with a sharp kick in the bottom corner that was usually reserved for the slightly-warped door that acted as a shortcut to the parade ground when he was running late.
“Damn it all…”