Notes: Much like Doctor Who, Kolchak: the Night Stalker has a vast expanded universe. The details in this chapter regarding Tony's son are from the EU.

The female cultist stared down at the fallen Scot with a satisfied smirk.

"Well, look at you," she said. "Such a strong specimen—even if completely dense. Oh, I think Lord Sutekh would love to have you as his next host…"

She suddenly shrieked as a bright light was held up in front of her eyes.

"Not today, Lady!" a voice snarled. "Get outta here! Get going!"

Blinded by the light, the cultist shielded her eyes, retreating—bumping into the column on her way out.

Carl sighed as he lowered the flashlight he was holding. He had to get Jamie away from here as soon as possible—she'd be coming back, with all of those cultists and Sutekh as reinforcements, most likely.

What they needed right now was that TARDIS Sarah Jane had mentioned—something that could move in and out of here quickly. But how…?

It was as he was lifting Jamie up that Carl found the answer to the conundrum—a smartphone was sticking out of Jamie's pocket. He took it out, pausing for a moment at the lockscreen.

"Okay…" he sighed. "If I was an 18th-century Scotsman, what would I use as my passcode?" He bit his lip, recalling the date of birth he had read on Jamie's UNIT profile. "Birth year? Let's try it…"

He typed in 1-7-2-4, and let out a triumphant chuckle as the phone unlocked. He then quickly opened up the contacts list; the Doctor was at the top of the rather small list. Not bothering to wonder who the few other names were, Carl quickly called the Doctor.

And, back at the pub, the Doctor had just finished his ale when he heard the TARDIS's phone ringing outside. Passersby were stopping to stare at the TARDIS, wondering whether they should take the phone.

"That blue phone booth is ringing," Tony said, staring at it though the glass door of the bar.

"So she is. That's for me, I'm afraid; would you excuse me, please?" the Doctor asked, hopping off of the barstool after paying for the ale.

Half-wondering if this was really happening, Tony paid for his milk and followed the Doctor outside, staring as the little man opened the front panel of the police box to reveal a phone, and took the call.

"Yes, Jamie, what is it?" he asked.

"Ah, this isn't Jamie," Carl said. "This is Carl Kolchak; your friend got knocked out by one of Sutekh's cultists—"

"Jamie… Is he alright?" the Doctor asked, a look of panic and worry crossing his face.

"He oughta be; he's not in a coma, if that's what's worrying you," Carl said. "But those cultists will be back here any second, and they might put him in one. Can you get us out of here?"

"Yes. Yes, I'll be there as quickly as I can!"

"No pressure or anything—but hurry!" Carl added.

The Doctor, still looking worried and out of it, placed the phone back as the crowd now dissipated; only Tony remained. He knew that look on the Doctor's face all too well.

"Was that Carl on the phone? Your friend's in trouble at the museum, isn't he?" he deduced. "You need a ride there?"

"I… no; I know a quicker way to get there, but thanks all the same," the Doctor said, now proceeding to unlock the police box.

"Look, I can get you a cab…" Tony trailed off as the doors of the police box opened to reveal the spacious console room inside. "What the…!?" He quickly darted around the box, as though confirming its size, and then stared at the console room again.

"You said you know Carl Kolchak?" the Doctor asked. "I might be needing your help in this. Could you step inside, please?"

"You… you really are…" Tony began, pointing upwards as he walked in. "You're from out there!? Hey…!" The big man sputtered as the doors swung shut behind him.

"She doesn't do so well on short trips, I'm afraid, but I'm going to ask this of her all the same; I suggest you hold on to something," the Doctor said, as he threw a lever on the console.

Tony grabbed a nearby chair as the entire room shook.

"This shouldn't be here!" he exclaimed pointing to the chair. "This whole room shouldn't be in here! I saw how big that phone booth was! You mean to tell me you fit this whole room in here!?"

"She's dimensionally transcendent," the Doctor said, as the central column on the console rose and fell. "You'll find there's quite a lot than just this one room in here. The Old Girl is rather like a castle."

Tony just stood there, holding onto the chair with one hand while holding his other arm out in a helpless shrug as he looked around the console room. The shaking suddenly stopped, as did the central column's rise and fall.

"We're here," the Doctor said, opening the doors. "Oh, my word! Jamie!"

Carl now stood aside as the Doctor darted outside, gathering the Scot in his arms and bringing him into the console room. Seeing Tony already inside the TARDIS, Carl now followed the Doctor inside, giving his employer a look.

"Well, Tony, what do you think?" Carl asked.

Tony gave Carl a stare.

"I think I should've gotten into the flower-selling business—I really do," he said. He shook his head, and then seemed to snap out of it. "Hey, is the kid alright?"

"I believe so, thanks to Mr. Kolchak's timely thinking," the Doctor said, holding a bottle of smelling salts under Jamie's nose.

The piper coughed as he revived, much to the Doctor's relief.

"Jamie! Oh, you little fool!" the Time Lord chided, drawing him into an embrace. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

"Aye, I'll find other ways t' scare ye," Jamie said, with a wan smile. "Och, I cannae believe I let myself get a thrashing by a lassie."

"I'm far too relieved to give you the 'you're not in the 1700s anymore' lecture right now, Jamie," the Doctor said. "But rest assured, we will be having that conversation later."

"Again?"

"You clearly haven't learned!"

"I'd say he's had some sense knocked into him," Carl intoned, prompting Jamie to yelp in fright.

"Doctor!" he exclaimed. "He's here, in the TARDIS!"

"Jamie…"

"He knows aboot the TARDIS and that ye're an alien!"

"Yes, and it was a lucky thing for you that he did!" the Doctor said, but he sighed as Jamie scrambled to his feet, putting himself between the Doctor and Carl.

"I won' let ye kill him!" Jamie vowed, staring down the reporter.

"Kid, he's the Earth's last hope," Carl said. "Killing him is the last thing I would ever do. What makes you think I would!?"

"That's what ye do," Jamie said, plainly. "Ye're a beastie hunter—I've heard all aboot ye. Ye've gone after the undead and monsters—and aliens!"

"Well, that explains a lot," Carl said. "But you might as well know that I found out about the Doctor from a lady named Sarah Jane Smith."

Jamie looked puzzle, but the Doctor snapped his fingers.

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "I met her in the Tomb of Rassilon!"

"Among other places," Carl said. "She told me all about Sutekh; apparently, she was with you when you killed him. Or tricked him to this death, as she put it. Anyway, Sutekh wants revenge on you for what you did—or going to do, I suppose."

"I see…" the Doctor said.

"Well, I don't see!" Tony blurted out. "How can he be haunted by a ghost of an Egyptian God he hasn't killed yet!?"

"Time travel, Tony—I told you!" Carl said. "Remember? That's how this kid from the 1740s is here now?"

"Ye knew aboot me, then?" Jamie said.

"Yeah, that's right," Carl said.

"Then I wore these stupid leg prisons for nothing!" the piper fumed. "I probably could've fought off that lassie if I hadnae been wearing these…"

He stormed off towards the corridor leading deeper into the TARDIS.

"Jamie?" the Doctor called. "Where are you going?"

"T' put my kilt back on!" Jamie called over his shoulder. "This disguise is useless now!"

The Doctor sighed again as Jamie disappeared down the corridor, suddenly looking much more weary and relieved. He turned back to Carl with a grateful look in his eyes.

"Thank you ever so much," he said, sincerely. "Jamie is all I have right now, you see. If I'd have lost him…"

"Don't mention it," Carl said, not used to such gratitude. "I'm just glad I got there in time to help him. He's a good kid."

"Yeah, but good kids often end up in the worst kind of trouble, and before you know it, it's too late to do a darn thing about it," Tony said, bitterly.

Carl's shoulders slumped; he knew Tony was referring to his dead son. The Doctor had no way of knowing, but he suspected it as he began to put the pieces together—Tony's immediately insistence on helping him out had been because he had recognized the panicked, worried look on the Doctor's face as the kind he'd had the night he had received that awful phone call.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly.

Tony gave the Doctor a look.

"You're really an alien?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And this is really a time machine?"

"Yes, she is… But if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do," the Doctor said, apologetically. "To change time like that—changing the fate of someone who is already dead—that would create a destructive paradox. And I fear that is what Sutekh has in store—for me and for all of us."

"He wants t' sacrifice yer souls and make the paradox that way!" Jamie said, returning now in his jumper and kilt.

"My… Oh, my regenerations? Yes, I suppose you could consider each one a soul… My previous self lives on the deep recesses of my mind; the others haven't manifested themselves yet, but the regeneration energy that will eventually become them is still within me."

"And if Sutekh sacrifices them, it'll create a paradox," Carl finished. "Since it was one of your future selves who stopped him."

"That's quite right," the Doctor said. "And though I'm not overly fond of them, my future selves are still me and have things that need to be done. We must save them—and, indeed, the entire space-time continuum…"

There was a commotion outside.

"It's them!" Carl exclaimed. "The cultists! They're probably trying to find the kid!"

"They shan't have him!" the Doctor said, closing the TARDIS doors. He was heading for the dematerialization switch when he suddenly stopped, staring at the console as it went haywire.

"Doctor!?" Jamie asked, rushing to his side. "Doctor, what is it!?"

"It's him…!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Sutekh! He's trying to override the TARDIS's telepathic circuits!"

"Doctor!" a voice hissed.

The piper yelled, clinging to the Doctor as the apparition of a jackal-headed being appeared above the console.

"What the heck is that!?" Tony asked.

"That's Sutekh, Tony—his true form!" Carl replied.

"So…" Sutekh hissed. "We meet again, Time Lord!"

"From your point of view, perhaps," the Doctor said, sounding a lot braver than he felt.

"It matters not," Sutekh replied. "Soon, you will know nothing—nothing but the destruction that I will wreak. Your human friends may have distracted my playthings temporarily, but they have retrieved the keys I need to break free from this prison of Duat. And you will witness the destruction of your planet, and the enslavement of this one before your souls are sacrified!"

"And then you'll offer me and my other selves up as a sacrifice, is that it?" the Doctor finished. "You have this all planned out, haven't you?"

"You seem to harbor some hopes of stopping me," Sutekh observed. "You are weak—nothing compared to my mental strength. Just as your other self, you, too, will be nothing more than a plaything of Sutekh!"

"He may have been a plaything, but he still succeeded in stopping y—oh!" the Doctor suddenly clutched at his head, sinking to his knees.

"Doctor!" Jamie cried. "Doctor, what is it!? What's happening!?"

"I think Sutekh is messing with his head!" Carl exclaimed.

"Can't you stop him?" Tony asked.

"I don't know!" Carl replied. "Kid, can't we get outta here or something!? Away from that thing!?"

Jamie tore himself away from the Doctor's side long enough to throw the dematerialization switch. As the central column rose and fell again, the apparition of Sutekh vanished, his telepathic control broken by their retreat.

The Doctor exhaled, still on his knees, looking quite shocked and stunned at what had just transpired.

"Are ye alright, Doctor?" Jamie asked, returning to his side.

"I… I believe so, Jamie, for the moment," he said, returning the security cling. "But… I'm afraid we're all in very great danger."