Druid's Lane, nearby Cult Headquarters.
GL: "Dash it all, where is he? He's been gone for almost an hour!"
HGJ: "Never fear, Litefoot. The courageous Captain is most probably lying in wait, stalking his prey like a lion stalks a gazelle. Waiting for the most opportune moment to strike."
GL: "He never much struck me as the patient sort, Henry. I fear his overconfident zeal may have been his undoing."
HGJ: "You mean to say..."
GL: "Unfortunately yes. This is a mission for Jago & Litefoot!"
HGJ: "Corks. I feared you'd say that. We will of course, be bringing along the Quick and his men, I assume?"
GL: "Of course not, Jago. If the Captain is in fact not in danger, we don't wish to upset his plans. We shall simply approach the dwelling and observe through the windows, interfering only if necessary."
HGJ: "Cripes. Ok, onwards, Professor. Before I see sense and change my mind."
Exterior Of Cult Headquarters.
HGJ: "See anything, Litefoot?"
GL: "Do keep your voice down, Henry. We are trying to remain unnoticed and covert."
HGJ: "Sorry George. What do you see?"
GL: "The Cult are preparing another sacrifice! The poor victim is still alive, however he's already had those hieroglyphics carved into his flesh. His face is covered by those fiendish hoods, I can't identify him."
HGJ: "Any sign of Captain Harkness?"
GL: "No... Where the blazes could he be?"
HGJ: "Corks! That figure tied to the chair, I think I recognise the stitching on his robes..."
GL: "You can't be serious..."
The two men watched with horror as the man's head was forced backwards, exposing his neck to the curved blade held out towards it. The hood slipped backwards during the motion, revealing the grim determined face of Captain Jack Harkness.
HGJ: "We have to do something!"
GL: "I have an idea! See that ornamental bird bath in the garden? Give me a hand with it."
Interior of Cult Headquarters.
CL: "This blade is called the soul stealer. It shall capture your life essence, and transfer it to our master, weakening his bonds. He shall be free again!"
CJH: "In which case, could you stop mouthing off and get on with it? Death would be preferable to having to listen to you much longer."
CL: "SILENCE! Restrain his overly inflated head."
CJH: "Oi! Hands of the merchandise. Have you any idea how much I need to moisturise to give my skin such a healthy glow."
CL: "Sutekh, please receive our humble sacrifice..."
CJH: "You know, on second thoughts, maybe I'm not your ideal candidate for this. Maybe you should let me go? I'm hardly a vestal virgin here."
CL: "In the name of..."
The Cult Leader was again interrupted, not by Jack, but a large decorative iron battering ram smashing through the boarded up window. Two gentlemen quickly climbed in through the freshly made entrance. The hirsute gentleman held his fists in an overly dramatic boxing stance, while the other held his cane with menace.
GL: "This has gone on for long enough!"
HGJ: "The game is up, you cretinous cultish cowards! There will be no more sacrificial stabbing for you fanatical fiends. Not with us on the case!"
CJH: "Well, you took your sweet time Whiskers! And Prim, pot kettle much? Now who's smashing windows?"
CL: "Enough, all of you! Sutekh will not be denied!"
With a sickening swipe of the silver blade, Jacks neck was slit open. Scarlet blood streamed from the wound, pooling around the Captain. He veined tried to breathe, succeeding only in drawing blood into his lungs. The Captain trashed in his chair, simultaneously choking and drowning, slowly loosing the energy to resist as his organs were denied oxygen.
With a roar, Litefoot drew the concealed sword from his cane and faced the leader. The two began to duel fiercely. Even Jago threw himself into combat with the nearest cultist. In the distance, a shrill police whistle sounded. The cavalry were coming, but possibly too late.
With a flourish, Litefoot disarmed his assailant, sending the knife flying. As Inspector Quick and his men entered, the fighting ended, the cultists knowing there time was over. Litefoot rushed to the Captain's side, tore a strip of fabric from his robes and attempted to staunch the bleed. Jack's panicked eyes found Litefoot's and shared a look of utter hopelessness. With a final wheezing shudder, the Captain fell limp, with no more blood to lose.
Litefoot turned to face Jago and Quick, a hard look behind his eyes. Together, the three men faced the cult leader.
IQ: "You and your cohorts are under arrest, for the crimes of murder, conspiracy to murder, offences against the Crown, and trespassing. Anything you say may be used in evidence against you."
The cult leader began to laugh, his voice deeper and more menacing that than before. As if someone else was speaking through him.
CL: "You think you have bested me? The Captain's life energy was far more powerful than anyone could have predicted. My powers have grown, soon I shall walk among your peoples again. And they shall fear me and tremble! For I am their doom! I am the end of days!
Very soon I shall have no more need of human puppets. I shall no longer require to suffer this indignity of proxies. But these particular insects have outlived their welcome."
With a jolt, all six of the gathered Cult members fell backwards, dead, a look of agony etched on their faces.
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