Meanwhile, Rose was busy making a muck of the organization of the shoes stacked on the shelf against the wall, and completely ignoring his questioning about her identity. Boring! There was something under that wall, something.... She pushed aside some boots, and slapped her palm against the wall. Her face scrunched up in concentration.
"Well," she drawled out, more to herself than to him. But she didn't finish the thought. Instead, she whirled on the man on the steps and eyed the shoes he was wearing. "Those aren't Myers," she said, then waved her sonic at him briefly. Readings said he was clean. And what a surprise, given that he'd been working in the area for what she presumed had to be a long time. She eyed his nametag. It was relatively undamaged. Was this a new job for him?
"You know," she said, propping a fist on her hip, "You could do a lot better than this old place. Face like yours? You could sell cars, insurance, anything other than dodgy shoes.... Today's Wednesday, and this is how many shoes you have left from the shipment?" She eyed the stock room. It was low, for sure. 75% off. Soon, all of London would be walking around with suggestion fields on their feet, and wouldn't that be fun? She went back to the wall. Yup, she was pretty sure there was a transmitter embedded in the wall.
"Right," she said at last. With a breath, she hit the wall - hard. Then she did it again. One more time, and the drywall crumbled. She tugged out a bit of wiring, connected to a flashy blue-red box. "Narrows it down," she mumbled, flipping the transmitter over in her hand and squinting at the writing on the back. "Probably from Kalar VI, now what would the Kalarians need with.... Ohhhh. Ohhhhhhhh. Right. Right."
She dropped the transmitter, stepped on it, then scooped up the remnants, pocketed them, and charged up the stairs where he happened to be. Already, her fine Gallifreyan senses were alerting her to the oncoming destruction. "Run," she said, and grabbed his hand.