The man ran through the streets of London, dodging and weaving between the the people and objects cluttering the pavement like a child's toy room. He didn't have time for this! The information he carried could cast him his life if he didn't move fast enough, come on! He reached his apartment building and slammed through the door, racing all the way to the top floor, all he needed to do was pick up a few things then he could finally wrap this up. Headquarters was only a few hundred yards away! He ran into his bed room and yanked out the top drawer of his bedside table, reaching his arm into the gap he then pulled out the secret compartment that held the portable hard drive that, when combined with the memory stick in his pocket, would finally be all the evidence needed to bring them down. He grinned and leaped to his feet intending to run back out the door, he was going to ma-
"Wakey wakey, sunshine!" a familiar voice boomed, laced with malice and cruel amusement as ice water was thrown over the MI6 operative. He jerked awake and groaned at the throbbing pain in his body. It took a minute or so for him to realise where he was, or at least a general idea, and when he did his heart sank to the very depths of his stomach and lamented the day he got involved with this. He was tied to a chair in what looked like a basement room. Bare concrete walls ceiling and floor with a single door that was, at present, slightly ajar. The man who had thrown the water at him was tall, blonde haired, blue eyed and mean. His face was clear but you could see the signs of a violent life on his bare arms, scars criss-crossed with bruises, half-healed scabs and the lone tattoo of a coiled snake on his right bicep. He hated this man with a passion.
As a few more people started to file in he grinned evilly and leaned forward,
"We gotta few questions to ask you Williams." The man sneered. He turned his back on the spy and took a balaclava and a hoody from one of the others. The man pulled them on and made sure that the extra hole for his mouth allowed him to speak clearly, one of the others was readying a mobile phone to record the 'questioning' and the five or so others settled in to watch, and occasionally help out.
"What was your mission objective other than stealing the information?" the blonde man asked.
The brown haired, brown eyed spook only smiled and said nothing.
The screams weren't quite blocked out by the cellar door.
Five days later and the spook was still alive, just. Each and very time he had been tortured, it had been filmed. The only thing he could do was hope it would be over soon.
The criminals were getting impatient and infuriated; all he would do is smile and scream, never speaking words even to beg for mercy.
On the sixth day, the blonde man arrived with a long length of razor wire, a drill, some screws and a bar. The bar was attached to the concrete ceiling and the razor wire was hanging from it, tied in a noose and soon enough, loosely around the spooks' neck.
"I am giving you one last chance. Tell me your complete mission objectives!" hollered the man.
The spook smiled a distinctly more gruesome smile than his first and began to laugh. It was cut of quickly by a zzzzp and a gurgle.
The spooks' head fell to the floor and rolled. It rested face up, mouth still twisted in macabre amusement.
The spy's body was stuffed into a hold all and taken back to his flat where it was dumped in the bath. The phone holding the footage left out on the table.
The mean blonde man fastened a padlock to the bag and smirked. He refrained from spitting on it, no need to give the police more evidence than they would have already. The man he had put in down the hall from Williams was out in the hallway.
"You saw nothing. Understand?"
The other man nodded and went back inside his flat.
The body would not be discovered for another week and a half.