"And here we are," said Tori, holding out the suit. "Wow," said Rory, "That's impressive." Tori grinned. "Try it on?" she asked, "You can go into the sitting room." Rory smiled and walked into the other room.

Taking off this helmet, Rory felt a draft on the back of his neck. He turned and frowned. Funny, there was just a wall, but he definitely felt a draft. He traced the edge of the bookshelf with his hand and felt a cool breeze. He continued to trace the top of the bookshelf and hit a notch. With a click the bookshelf swung open a couple centimeters. Rory frowned. He glanced behind him then pulled open the hidden door.

The door revealed a dark staircase lit by a single light bulb. A hidden basement? Rory stepped slowly down the stairs and entered into a dank, musty room. It looked like a small workshop. There was a small desk with a radio and a telegraph, and a large map of London on the wall. Rory stared at the map. There was only one mark on it, and he didn't have a good feeling about it. Someone had circled the old warehouse where the Pandorica was hidden.

The telegraph activated and Rory jumped. As it clacked away, Rory wrote down its message on a small pad of paper on the desk. When the machine went silent the paper read: 'It is time.' Rory frowned. Time for what? He heard someone behind him, then-