Chapter Sixteen: The Preachers

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It was dark out by the time the van stopped again. It pulled up in front of a dingy brick building with light shining through the windows.

"There's a light on," The guy, who we'd learned was called Jake, pointed out as he climbed out of the van," There's someone inside the base."

He held a hand out to me and I took it, letting him help me out of the back of the van as Mickey followed after me. 

"I take it no one is supposed to be inside the base?" I questioned. 

"Mrs. Moore, we've got visitors." He called to the woman who was driving. She got out as well and the two rushed through the main entrance with their guns drawn, while Mickey and I chased after them. 

Jake stopped just outside a pair of double doors, beginning the countdown to burst through and confront the intruder. Mickey and I exchanged a fearful look and I looped my hand through his elbow.

"One, two, three, go!" Jake burst through first, raising his gun as Mrs. Moore followed after him. Mickey and I filed in, peering over their shoulders to see that there was a man standing in front of a stove. He was dressed head-to-toe in black clothing, which is why I noticed first. As my gaze came to rest on his face though, I found my eyes widening in shock.

"What the hell are you doing?" A familiar voice asked. Mrs. Moore turned to look at us with a horrified expression.

"What are you doing there?" Jake asked, confused.

"What am I doing here?" The voice repeated, walking forward to stand in front of us. It was Mickey...or Ricky, I should say, the parallel version of our own mickey Smith. Not only had we just discovered that he is currently London's most wanted, we were caught with a picture perfect, parallel universe copy of him. "What am I doing there?"

Jake and Mrs. Moore turned around, shoving their guns in our faces. I sighed, shaking my head and pushing them down with both hands.

"Oh give it a rest. If were were any danger to you, we would've done something when you kidnapped us." I said nonchalantly, pushing through them into the kitchen.

"Who the hell are you?" Rickey questioned. I shrugged.

"A completely innocent bystander," I said, pulling up a chair and flopping down into it, "We were just minding our own business when your friends here yanked us into your van."

"But he looks just like him." Jake pointed out. "If you're not Rickey, then who are you."

"M-Mickey. I'm Mickey." Mickey stuttered.

"With an M, like the mouse," I said simply, crossing my legs. Rickey stepped up in front of me.

"I wouldn't be acting so care-free if I was you." He said aggressively. I raised my eyebrows.

"Why? 'Cause you're a big bad criminal?" I asked. "Nah, I don't buy it. Not even a little."

"Why's that, then?" He put a foot up on one of the chairs, leaning on his knee. "You don't know anything about me."

"No...of course not," I said, leaning forward to put my face close to his, "But I know him. And I would almost guarantee that you share a few things beyond just your face."

"If you're so innocent, then you won't mind if we check you for bugs." He said. I stood up, peeling my jacket off of my shoulders and holding my arms out.

"Go for it, Rickey Tickey-Tavi. But you should know I'm not a cheap date."

To be totally honest, I don't have the slightest idea what I'm doing. But, if I've learned anything from the Doctor recently, its that if you go swanning in like you own the place and pretend that you know what's going on, people tend to go along with it.

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