The Master was pulled roughly through the prison corridors. He didn't like this place. It reminded him too much of the time the humans captured him, of imprisonment, of not being able to move.

The two guards clicked his handcuffs off and threw him into one of the cells lining the walls, keying in the door combination. There were ten cells altogether, five on each side, a bed covering the back walls, and a solid row of bars running the length of the room.

The Master pulled himself to his feet, watching the guards' retreating backs. Plan B had fallen apart, or was so close to going down the drain that the difference wasn't worth mentioning. And while he had every confidence in Plan C, he didn't like putting his life in the hands of those he didn't control.

The Master crossed to the bars of his cell, inwardly sneering at the stupidity of the humans that had taken the handcuffs off. He reached through the bars, twisting his hand around in a way that would have surely broken it if he'd been human, and began keying in the hundreds of different combinations that could open the door.

He was in the fourth cell on the left, facing away from the door, and therefore didn't see the door opening, or the figure that came through it, until a baton came down hard on his hand.

He let out an involuntary yelp, and retrieved his broken hand, cradling it to his chest. Looking up, he saw the man with the baton was an aged Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart, wearing a satisfied expression on his face.

"Well, well, well," the Master crooned. "How are you… old chap? Haven't seen you in… ooh, must be a few hundred years."

"And I hope you're close to dying," the Brigadier retorted.

The Master clapped his good hand against his chest. "You wound me, Briggy. Though…" He lifted his mangled hand. "I could have done without this." He glanced up, right into the Brigadier's eyes, before wrapping his good hand around his broken one, and wrenching it back into place. "Aren't I full of surprises?" He danced closer to the bars, leaning against them, and took great amusement in the fact that the Brigadier moved backwards.

"You will be taken to a high security facility," the Brigadier began, but the Master interrupted him.

"No. Don't think so."

The Brigadier narrowed his eyes. "Your guards are now on our side. Your soldiers are gone. Your wife is in custody."

The Master waited, as if expecting more but, when it didn't come, shrugged noncommittally. "Were you on the Valliant? No. Were you killed the second the glorious Toclofane set flight upon this miserable planet? Yes. You don't have a clue what happened in that year. All you know is what the Freak told you, and I made sure he never had a good view." The Master laughed. "What do you know? Nothing."

"I know everything. I believe I'm repeating myself when I say we have your wife in custody."

The Master narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the Brigadier. A second later though, he was smiling again, shaking his head. "She hasn't told you anything."

"And why?" the Brigadier challenged him.

"Because…" A maniac grin appeared. "You didn't come in here with the anger in your eyes that 1. You failed, and 2. I just killed an innocent human. Pick whichever one causes you the most embarrassment."

Now it was the Brigadier's turn to look unsure. Before either of them could say anything more, though, there was a clattering at the door, and shouting could be heard from behind it.

The Brigadier glanced warily at the Master, who put up his hands, looking for all the world like he was innocent in all of this. "Not me, guv."

Another second and the door burst open, revealing two very flustered guards and an irate Sarah Jane Smith.

"Brigadier." Sarah Jane marched into the room, through the two guards, who were looking desperately at the Brigadier. "What happened?" she continued. "Where's the Doctor?"

"Ahem," the Master coughed roughly. When neither of them seemed to hear him, he tapped the bars of his cell. "Hello! Am I invisible?"

Sarah Jane seemed to notice him for the first time, and gave him a look of barely disguised hostility.

The Master raised his eyebrows. "No one likes me today. Why? What have I done wrong?"

Sarah Jane took a deep breath, and turned back to the Brigadier. Before she could get anything more out, however, there was yet more commotion from behind the door, a weary "man, it's busy today" from the Master, and a teenage boy shot into the room.

The boy was followed by two more guards, who skittered backwards when the boy hid behind Sarah Jane. The Master found this quite funny. This really wasn't the time to let his amusement show though, as he could feel Plan C drawing closer.

The guards, after glancing at the Brigadier, backed out of the room, keeping a wary eye on Sarah Jane. The Master felt a tug on his mind, and glanced quickly around the room. After a moment, he moved to the end of his cell, the one nearest to the door, and frowned at the boy.

"Didn't think UNIT were into kids."

Sarah Jane turned towards the cell, and looked ready to launch herself at the Master, but the Brigadier caught her arm. "You've got to get him out of here, Miss Smith."

"Why?" Sarah Jane was still staring at the Master, and therefore saw him speak his next words.

"They're going to kill me." He raised his eyebrows at the Brigadier, as their gazes met. "Am I right, or am I right? Well…" he leaned causally against the bars again. "What would your precious Doctor have to say about that if he knew?"

The Brigadier was looking decidedly uncomfortable, but Sarah Jane's mouth was set in a hard line. From behind her, the boy who had entered the room spoke. "Why does he deserve to die?"

"Luke!" Sarah Jane turned, ushering the boy towards the door.

Just before the door was shut, the Master called after the boy called Luke. "I'm the sworn enemy of mankind, have killed countless millions of you, and only recently took over your entire planet and turned you all into slaves." He looked back at the Brigadier. "Now… if that's not a reason for the return of capital punishment, then I don't know what is!"