The call goes out at 11.37 PM. Though they have no real link to – well, anything to do with this project, they remember the old mission directive.
"The odd, the unexplained. Anything on Earth… or beyond."
This, the top brass feel, counts as both. Although the Americans don't really like UNIT getting involved in these sorts of missions, they let it happen, or rather, they don't openly side against them.
In the UNIT team's own minds, they wonder if they can take on something like this without… him. But they cannot contact him.
And they don't need him. Not really. This is not something they want him helping in. It's cut and dried.
They wish.
The team was to be a five man team at first, with a full company of support, just in case. In truth, none of them necessarily expected to need the support, but it was nice to know it was available. The team was to be as follows.
Lieutenant Carl Bateson was a soldier with experience in several different war zones. He was also the only one with combat experience with alien life forms, having fought alongside "the Brigadier" during the early nineties. He was tall, with brown crew-cut hair and brown eyes, hard features and a sombre manner.
Sergeant Leroy Spinelli was as experienced at terrestrial warfare as Bateson, but had no experience with alien invasions. He was red haired and cheerful.
Private Karen Cantrell was a relatively new attaché to UNIT and an inexperienced one at that, but she was a high scorer in most areas, especially on marksmanship (she could put a bullet in a Dalek's eyestalk from fifty paces, the rumour abounded, which was of course untrue. It was 65). She had short black hair, and blue eyes, and looked like a teenager when she was actually 25.
Private David Gordon was another new attaché, but one with a little combat experience in the regular US army. He was stocky, a little shorter than Bateson, with a thin moustache: he was a calm person and a calming influence, and he was also the medic for the team.
Finally, Private Richard Williams was a British Import. Little was known about him, but UNIT-UK trusted him, and so did the US version. Bearded and dark eyed, he looked the most sombre of the team.
The mission remit was simple. Find intel on the situation. Discover whether UNIT needed to go do its thing. Easy enough.
Little did they know what was about to happen. How inadequate any of their experience was, how far from easy any of it was going to be.
The entire team were inside an APC that would deliver them straight to Fairport city, where the mission would be executed. The APC in question had been loaned from Delta Force - one of their modern, multi-wheeled jobs with computer displays et al.
"Don't you Yanks have a team to deal with this sort of stuff?" Williams asked, cleaning his SMG.
"The F.E.A.R team, yes," Bateson said, ignoring the Englishman's condescending tone. "They're already there."
"And not doing any good, I gather, if UNIT are involved," Williams said, looking the American right in the eye. This was somewhat typical of the soldier's attitude.
"The F.E.A.R team is on the ground still, and is presumably continuing its investigations," Bateson said.
"You talk a lot of bull," Williams said. "We need the Doctor."
Karen looked up at this – it was the second time the imported UNIT trooper had mentioned a "doctor" like he was the definite article, and it made no sense to her. She shared a glance with Sergeant Spinelli, who just shrugged.
"I have no clue," he mouthed.
"We don't need the... expert," Bateson said patiently. "He's a science man according to the files. We know the science. It's the combat part we've gotten to, and he's no good on that."
"No, because his way is better," Williams muttered, but he went back to his gun.
"Who is the Doctor?" Gordon asked, breaking his silence.
Bateson looked up, then shared a glance with Williams.
"He's a scientific advisor," Bateson said.
"Huh," Gordon said. "Not much science behind finding some intel. Hack a computer or two, job done."
"Theoretically," Williams said. "It's almost never that easy."
"Look," Bateson said, reaching the edge of his patience with Williams, who had proven insubordinate and sarcastic, as well as generally unlikable, "what is your thing with the Doctor?"
Williams looked up at him, a dark edge in his eyes.
"Let's just say, I've been in battles where we were outnumbered by monsters we couldn't even touch with our weapons," he said, after a moment's pause. "And he saved us all. Since then, I've put less faith in these," and here he patted the SMG, "and more faith in... 'sciencey stuff'."
"Well, this is going to be a simple mission," Bateson said, smiling.
"Uh, sir," their driver, a woman by the name of Laura Davis said, "I don't think you're right about that one."
Bateson looked at her, and then went to the front, before returning to the team in the back, ashen faced.
"What's wrong?" Karen asked.
"Let's just say, it just got a hell of a lot more complicated," he said. "We've got a few hours before we get there people. Try to catch some sleep. You'll need it."
He didn't tell them about the mushroom cloud just yet. No need. Let them rest first.
When they finally got to the city, hours after they technically should, it was in ruins. There were occasional bodies lying around, and worse still, ash figures who would crumble to dust as the team walked. Nothing much to suggest the city as a place of life and light.
"Madness," Bateson muttered.
"Crazy shit," Gordon nodded sombrely.
Williams was cocking his ear, as if listening out for something. He'd been doing that more than once, listening to something only he had picked up on, and finally Cantrell had to call him on it.
"What?" she asked him. "What is it?"
"Can't you hear that?" Williams said, and then he grinned. Before anyone could stop him,. He was off in the direction of whatever noise he could hear.
"Come back here, trooper!" Sergeant Spinelli yelled.
"Wait," Bateson said, holding up a hand. "Can you hear that?"
There was something – Gordon was cocking his head too, and Karen could hear… a… trumpeting sound? Wheezing and groaning… it sounded ill at ease, and faded quickly, but it was there.
"What the hell?" Spinelli asked.
"My thoughts exactly," Bateson said, and he started running after Williams.
That's when they heard him scream.
Williams was down by the time they got there, and there were… things, of some variety, so many as to not even be believed, going for him and three more people who were there as well, people in military combat gear with guns, shooting at the creatures. Well, two of them had guns. The third, a woman, was taking care of Williams.
"Care to lend us a hand?" one of them yelled, apparently a Delta Force operative. The UNIT troops responded by unleashing hell on Earth (figuratively speaking) into the creatures, who soon retreated.
"Nice one," the Delta said. "You guys Delta?"
"No," Bateson said. "We're UNIT. Unified Intelligence Taskforce. We're here to investigate freaky shit."
"Freaky shit?" the other man said, a black man in a Delta Force uniform. "We've got freaky shit, don't worry. We've got more freaky shit than a freaky shit factory!"
"We noticed," Karen said, grimly, reloading her weapon. To her credit, her first live fire combat experience with non-terrestrial enemies seemed to have gone well.
"Who are you guys?" Gordon asked.
"I'm Sergeant Holiday, Delta Force," the black man said, indicating himself. "These guys are First Encounter Assault Recon people; that's Jin," he added, pointing at the woman, who waved, "and this is…" there was a moment's hesitation, and then the balaclava wearing man spoke.
"Wade," he said, his voice softer now.
"Well," Bateson said, "thanks for helping our friend out. What was he doing?"
"He looked like he was looking for something," Holiday said, "but they got him before he could do anything else."
"What?" Karen asked, but then the wheezing groaning sound started again, louder this time, and stronger.
To the amazement of all present, a blue box, nine foot tall with a lamp on top, appeared out of nowhere, almost as though it was ripping it's way into the universe, and a moment later, six guns were aimed at it.
"Alma?" Holiday asked.
"Nope," Wade said, softly. "It's too… well, weird weird, rather than fucked up freaky shit weird."
"I know what that is," Bateson said, lowering his gun. He smiled grimly; Williams was about to get his wish.
A moment later, the box was solid, and a man – a man with messy black hair, a slightly oddly-proportioned face, a tweed jacket, black skinny jeans and a box tie – stepped out, looking at the box and talking even as he staggered slightly.
"Sorry, sorry," he said, "figured I'd landed somewhere normal, turns out there's a big sort of... psychic field thing..." he randomly waggled long fingers, before registering the people with guns.
"Hello," he said. "I'm the Doctor. Who are you?"
The military people looked at him as if he was mad.
"Oh, let me guess!" the man said, "the box always puts people off slightly... well, it's only a materialisation..."
And then there was a slight... none of the military types could have described it, though had the Doctor been watching he might have described it as a "matter reality bending experience, possibly due to massive telekinetic interference." As it stood, he was the one in the middle of it all, and he turned - somehow - from a bow tie wearing loon to a tall, bescarfed man in a hat.
"And that's simply explained," the new man said, uninterrupted, "by your average temporal theorising..."
Another "matter reality bending experience" occurred, and he turned into a shorter man in a straw hat with a garish jumper. The voice became a Scotts burr.
"... although obviously humans at yourrr level arrren't expected to be so advanced," he continued, seemingly unaware of the transformations, "so I'll forgive you your ignorance..."
And then, with a final contortion of reality, he was back to being in a bow tie.
"Now," he said, looking at them or a moment, his eyes suddenly gazing intently at the motley band. "Who are you all? You lot," he said, pointing to the UNIT team, "are obvious, he's," he added, pointing to Holiday, "a Sergeant, judging from the uniform a Delta Force operative, and those two," he continued, indicating, "are wearing First Encounter Assault Recon uniforms, suggesting a perceived paranormal presence, although actually most paranormal stuff is purely dimensional rifts. Or rogue Cybermen." Finally, the Doctor looked right behind the various humans. "And that appears to be a creepy little girl."
The humans turned - the UNIT team in confusion, the FEAR team and Delta in dread - to see a little girl in a red dress staring at them all.
"And who might you be?" the Doctor asked.
