For the purposes of this story, the timeline I have chosen to use is: CoE, July 2009; Jack leaves Earth, January 2010; Gwen and Rhys' baby born, April 2010; and this story, October 2010.

Torchwood Goes Forth

Prologue

The sun was creeping over the horizon when Wayne Brewster drove his battered truck up the trail to the north shore of Birch Creek. He chose a spot shielded from the three out-of-State fishermen who were setting up their gear on the other side of the water down towards the main body of Lake Fork where they had been told they would find the best bass. Wayne lit a cigarette, his fourth of the day, and took a grateful drag sighing as the nicotine hit his bloodstream.

The cigarette was half-smoked and hanging from his lips when Wayne left the cab of the truck and walked along the bank to where he had stashed the boat the day before, well hidden under an overhang among the hydrilla and duckweed which ran rampant on this stretch. Wayne had played here as a boy, had fished all around the creek ever since he was knee-high, and knew every inch of the banks. As a teenager he had used the secret places he knew to hide the many small items he'd stolen from wealthier classmates and now, at the age of thirty two, he used them as a safe haven for the hauls from his various burglaries until he could sell them on. The longest Wayne Brewster had held down a legal job was a month and he'd been sick for a week of that. The proceeds from his petty thefts and the odd job for more accomplished criminals, supplemented by his unemployment cheques, paid the rent on a dilapidated trailer and ensured a steady supply of the cigarettes he craved.

It took twenty minutes for him to unload the truck and transfer the metre high cone and associated paraphernalia to the boat. He was on cigarette number six as he rowed out to Birdwell Island, regretting not being able to use the outboard motor but it was noisy and he'd been told not to draw attention to himself. He landed without anyone seeing him, tying the boat to a stout tree trunk and took the cone to the side of the electrical station that at one time had provided power for the whole area but was now a little used emergency supplement. Two more trips and all the equipment was in place.

Well hidden from both shores, Wayne hunkered down and lit yet another cigarette; he usually got through a pack of twenty before breakfast. He savoured this one, watching the smoke dissipate in the cool morning air. It would be hot soon, was never much else in this part of Texas, and he aimed to be at the Yantis Café before then for pancakes and bacon. With one final drag on his cigarette, he stubbed it out and assembled the cone and heavy duty wires as he'd been shown before hooking it up to the electricity supply from the station. No one ever came out here to check on the place so the drain was unlikely to be detected. With everything in place, Wayne flicked the switch and nodded in satisfaction when the two blue lights came on; it was done.

He ambled back to the boat, reaching into his shirt pocket for the pack of smokes, content to have earnt two hundred bucks for a couple of hours' work. But the boat wasn't where he had left it. Nor was it on the water. Casting around, Wayne double checked and was certain this was where it had been. Cursing, he trudged round the island but the boat was nowhere to be seen. Back at the starting point, he considered what to do. He couldn't swim back to the shore, he wasn't going to chance the alligators, so he was stuck on the island. This wasn't so bad as in a couple of hours more fishermen would be coming out, on shore and in boats, and he would be able to hail one of them for a ride. What mattered more than the wait was that he had left his spare pack of cigarettes in the truck and only had six left. He cursed again and settled down on the ground, his back to a tree trunk and prepared to wait.

Wayne was looking out towards the north shore and missed the gentle movement of the water closer to the island where ripples formed and re-formed in a strange pattern. It wasn't alligators moving underwater but a very different form of life, one which had no reason to be in a Texan lake or even on Earth. Out of the ripples, a large sinuous body emerged and struck at Wayne, pinning him to the tree and biting into his neck, injecting its paralysing venom before the man had time to react. Two more of the creatures emerged from the water and helped drag the helpless but conscious Wayne Brewster through the duckweed and under the water.

A couple of hours later at the Yantis Café, Carmen Ruiz and her fellow waitress decided Wayne Brewster must have been 'on a job' the night before, the only reason they knew why he had ever missed his daily pancake fix.

Next time, we get to meet Torchwood ...