CIA agent Jack London pulled at the chains shackling him to a brick wall, but no matter what, his upper body strength was not enough to break the staples.
His cover had been blown by an ex-CIA agent who was confirmed as a double agent and was now working for the company he was assigned to infiltrate. His orders were to infiltrate, do some reconnaissance of the company this man was involved with – on the surface Extensive Enterprises was a legitimate company and charitable organization, but his agency felt otherwise - and then apprehend the rouge agent. But three days into his mission, he was compromised. His work supervisor requested he come to his office and when he attended, he was ambushed and knocked unconscious. He awoke to find himself chained to a wall in a darkened room.
His watch beeped indicating the hour, but as he had no way of knowing what time it was, so it wasn't much use. His back hurt, and he felt the sting of dry blood on his face pulling at his skin. He had been beaten. His arms were above him and the ache of his muscles told him he'd been here for quite some time.
He heard the sound of a key in a lock and the door to his darkened cell opened wide, a flush of light cascaded the entire room in a white glow. It temporarily blinded him and he shed his eyes, opened them slowly, and adjusted to the light. Then he learned where he was: In a very large interrogation room. His wrists were shackled with iron clasps and shacked with heavy chains to staples in the wall. On the far side of the windowless room was a common looking, wooden chair.
A man stood in the entrance to the room, and Jack narrowed his eyes in disgust and anger, identifying him. It was the ex-CIA rouge agent. "Hello, Jack! Quintessence meeting you here, of all places, but, of course, I figured they'd send you after me." He said.
"Alex Devon," Jack said, "Under Execution Order 159, you're hereby ordered to surrender yourself to me to be taken back for crimes against the state."
Alex laughed. He took a couple of steps into the room and faced a once honored friend and comrade in the CIA. "You were always so serious, Jack," he said. He reached out and grabbed Jack's chin tightly, smirking. "Lighten up, will ya? You have no authority here." He jerked Jack's head back and it smacked the back wall. Jack hissed in pain. Alex went over to the chair and sat down, crossing his legs.
"Why?" Jack simply asked.
Alex produced a thin smile. "Why, what?" he said. "Why did I betray my country? Money, Jack. Good, old, fashion, hard currency - ten million dollars to be exact." He reached behind him and pulled out a gun, looking at the barrel. "Duty and Honor can only get you so far, but money is what makes the world go around."
"Who are you working for?" Jack asked.
"A certain agency that will remain nameless, that's all you need to know," he said.
"Is it government or military?" Jack then asked.
"What is this, twenty questions?" Alex said.
A tall, heavy set man, with muscles like a body builder, blocked the light coming in from outside the room and both men looked in his direction, his ample frame produced a dark silhouette. "He wants you," the man said in a gruff-sounding tone.
Alex smiled, but in the darkened room, it was barely seen. He inserted his gun back into a holster behind his back. "Well, thanks for the visit, Jack," he said. "I'll be seeing you around…" he ventured to the door, looking at the tall, heavy set man blocking the door, "or maybe not. Soften him up a bit more."
The heavy set man acknowledged Alex with a grunt, and Alex left the room. The man closed the door and turned on the overhead lights, illuminating the room in a dim, yellow glow. Jack looked at the man with engaging apprehensiveness and took a step back from him, but his back hit the wall. With his arms in the air, chained, unable to move, he was almost defenseless. Almost! He had a plan.
The man started to approach him. Jack took hold of the chains and when he got within range, pulled himself up and kicked the man in the face with both feet. The man staggered back, feeling his face with a hand. He looked back and spit out blood. Jack gulped nervously. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he said, frowning thinly, serendipitously.
The man growled intensely angry and then started to soften Jack up.