Robert was still holding the hat and coat when he heard footsteps and a mysterious whirring approaching from farther on. He quickly threw the items back on the rack and pressed himself into the few shadows, praying the people would merely pass on by.

There were three men, big, burly. If he wasn't mistaken, they bore a resemblance to the men Winfred had hired to rough up Corcoran. But it was the thing they followed that captured his interest. It looked like a pawn in chess, but was made of solid metal, had two odd arm-like appendages sticking out the front and a long rod from the cap. It slid or hovered across the floor, its cap moving back and forth slowly, the rod going up and down every so often.

Robert didn't dare allow himself a sigh of relief even after they passed harmlessly by, not even suspecting his presence. He stayed in his position for at least ten minutes. Then, he dared take one step out of the shadows. And another. And another. Keeping one eye out for any more thugs or those…metal pawns, he slipped deeper and deeper into what he had deemed, The Stairway to Hell.

He went down a short, narrow corridor and then another flight of steps. He ended up on a small platform, then a few more steps down into a corridor. Two doorframes to his left were scary enough, but the shadows cast by the torchlight and the faint rattling of chains nearly sent him flying back up to the safety of the home he had always known. How in Heaven and Hell had Father been able to conceal all this?

"Hello?" he hissed fearfully.

It was all Corcoran needed to hear.

"Robert?!" he cried joyfully, or as joyfully as his condition would allow.

Sure enough, his friend and fellow soldier appeared in the doorway. His friend squeaked a gasp and stood frozen to the spot.

"Copper?! For God's sake, Copper, what happened?!"

"I'll explain when I'm down, but the thugs took the keys." Corcoran frowned. "But don't worry about me. Go into the next room. Help him."

Robert was shocked at "Don't worry about me" but did as he was told. If he was shocked before, now he was absolutely flabbergasted. The back of the man at the far end of the room resembled a dish he'd once seen at a tavern. One shoulder had been branded with a skewed, sun-like image, and what little skin was left was bruised.

"Oh, shit."

He rushed forward, stripping his coat and laying it on the man's back. The man sucked in a breath through his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back like he was going to scream.

"Take it off," he commanded tightly.

"But-"

"Take it off!"

Robert did as he was told. "I'm sorry; I don't know what to do."

"Did you find our clothes by any chance?" the man inquired.

"Yes. Yes, I did. They're in a small room-"

"Well we can't go to them." The man took several breaths. "Bring them here. In my jacket is my sonic screwdriver, that is, if they didn't confiscate it. Give it to me and I can get us out of here."

Robert hesitated, not wanting to leave the man.

"Go!"

He went, glancing once at Corcoran who watched him expectantly. Robert bit his lip as he tried to quickly sneak back up to the dressing room. Fortunately, he encountered no one and gathered up both sets of clothes as quickly as he could; there was no telling when the thugs or their pawn might return.

"I'm assuming the outlandish clothes are yours," Robert said as he dropped them beside the strange man. "Perchance, are you Mr. Periwinkle?"

"How am I supposed to get my stuff if it's there? It's in my left jacket pocket. No, on the inside! See that pocket? Yes, there."

Robert held up the strange little device. "This?"

"Yes! Give it to me!" The man flapped his hand in the manacle and clumsily gripped the little device. Suddenly, the end popped up and started to glow green and created a strange buzzing sound. Only moments later, the lock on the manacle sprang free. He did the same to the other manacle and slid to the ground.

"Oh, yes!" he whispered, rubbing his wrists and shoulders as best he could. He flinched when his hands brushed the brand.

"Hey, Doctor! What about me?!" Corcoran called from the other room.

"Here, take this and free him," the man said, tossing the device to Robert. "I have to dress. He's coming, Corky!"

Robert wasted no time getting to the room, but quickly realized he didn't know how to use the device. He tried to remember how he'd seen it done as he pointed it at one of the manacles holding Corcoran's wrists.

Just press down and maybe…

It popped, glowed, buzzed, and the lock was loosed. Corcoran's arm dropped like cooked pasta.

"Can you catch yourself?" Robert wondered.

Corcoran let out a breath but nodded. "Aye, I reckon so."

The other wrist manacle soon sprang free. Corcoran's knees gave out, but his arms caught him before he hit the stone floor. The instant his ankles were unbound, he started dressing, eager to get something between his skin and the cold floor. His leg protested and his abdomen wanted nothing more than to curl up like a baby, but there was time enough for that once they were out of there.

At that moment, the outlandish stranger walked into the room, staggering a bit and yet shirtless on account of his injuries, but otherwise looking full of life.

"Who did you say you were?" Robert asked.

The man strode up to him and took the device. "I'm the Doctor."

They met no resistance on the stairs to the dressing room so they decided to halt for a quick rest. The Doctor sat against the wall, Corcoran and Robert on either side, and put his head between his knees.

"You all right, Doctor?" Robert asked dumbly.

"A little pain never killed any of my people," the Doctor murmured, casting a knowing glance at Corcoran. "How many steps did you say it was to the surface? I didn't think to keep track on the way down."

Robert opened his mouth but only shrugged. "I don't know, quite a few. I did count about half a dozen torches though."

"It's a start."

"So is now the time that you tell me what the hell is going on, or is that-?"

"Not now, Robert," Corcoran interrupted. "We have to get out of here and find some place safe."

"Safe. All right, Corky, where is safe anymore?"

"I know a place," the Doctor said, trying to stand. His new companions came up under him until he found his balance. "Come along, Corky. And, erm, Robert." Hm…not quite the same ring to it.

There had been plenty of fear to go around in the torture chamber, but it only continued to mount as they ascended the steps – being sure to count the torches – and still met with no resistance.

"I don't like this," Corcoran breathed.

"Neither do I," Robert whimpered.

The Doctor stopped. He glanced back at his companions who waited with a blatant mixture of fear and curiosity on their faces. He regarded them a moment, then shoved his shirt, jacket, suspenders and bow tie into Robert's arms.

"What is this for?"

"You're the least useful of us in a fight," the Doctor told him, continued up the steps. "Corky and I will need our hands free."

"Oi, I've shot a gun!"

"But do you have a gun?" He was met with grudging silence. "And even if you did have a gun, it wouldn't matter. It would make no difference against what we're facing."

"You mean those evil metal chess pawns? I saw one on my way down; it didn't notice me."

"Hm…don't be so sure. They're called Daleks and they…they are far more powerful than anyone really gives them credit for."

Corcoran frowned in understanding, but also wondering why the Doctor seemed to continuously torture himself with the memories of what seemed to be a very old blood feud, if that's what it could be called.

They reached the top of the staircase and faced the door to the office.

"Seven torches," the Doctor reported. "Two hundred ninety steps."

"Thanks," Robert said sarcastically. "I'll remember that next time I come down here."

"Hush!"

The Doctor carefully sonic-ed the door handle and opened the door. The fire had been stoked, illuminating all but the tiniest nooks and crannies. No Daleks hiding here. The Doctor led them across the rug to the other door. He listened, sonic-ed this door as well, and waited a full minute. Robert opened his mouth to speak but a look from both the Doctor and Corcoran silenced him. So they waited.

Taking a breath, the Doctor put a finger to his lips and slipped through the door with Corcoran and Robert right on his heels. They all stopped.

"Oh," the Doctor said.

The thugs. Dalek-Caan and all his followers. Morehouse. Waiting for them.

"You didn't actually think escape was going to be that easy, did you, Doctor?" Morehouse taunted, grinning like a true madman. He peeked around the Doctor. "Oh, hello, son."