It's all AU.

One minute Jack was chatting with his ship's computer, sipping a HyperMartini and contemplating what it would feel like to be blown to smithereens-the next, he was sitting in what appeared to be a hotel lounge, empty glass in his hand. He considered himself lucky that his death had been quick and painless, but he wasn't quite sure why the afterlife entailed mid-21st Century furniture in neutral colors and tastefully subdued wood paneling.
"Could be worse," he told himself, looking around. But something was tickling at the back of his skull, that same subtle feeling he's learned to listen to in order to stay out of danger's way. It told him something was amiss, and he wasn't one to ignore his gut feeling when it spoke.
Pulling himself to his feet, he straightened his uniform jacket and put on his most charming smile when he heard footsteps coming toward the entry.

Rowan was starting to freak a bit. It took a while, but he'd gotten around to it. So he started trying to surprise the doors into giving him an exit, opening it very fast then shutting it then again

The Master was looking for Jack. Well, he was looking for a number of people, actually, including anyone who might actually have a decent chance of explaining what was going on and how he could get back to the Valiant to thwart the Doctor's plans, but Jack was at the top of his list.

He finally decided to just wait around the hotel dining room until Jack turned up, on the grounds that everybody had to eat some time and most people seemed to be eating there rather than anywhere else. And eventually, his plan worked. He waited in a dark corner, watching while Jack ate his dinner, and trying to work out if this Jack would know him or not. He was dressed very similarly to how the Master had last seen him – but that didn't actually mean anything, as Jack didn't seem to have changed his default outfit for years.

When Jack was nearing the end of his meal, the Master slipped out into the lobby to intercept him. So that when Jack finally emerged from the dining room the Master was waiting, leaning back against the far doors where he couldn't fail to be noticed, hands in his trouser pockets (one of them round his laser screwdriver, just in case), one foot crossed nonchalantly across the other, and a small, secretive smile on his lips.