Chapter 7
Three approached his subordinate. Connor was a pathetic small time crook when it came to his position in the organisation. The boy had only became a member of Scorpia because he was a blood thirsty savage at times. However, this didn't make up for his severe lack of brains. The idiot had allowed Rider's capture to be tracked back to him and that was something which could not be fixed easily.
"Yes, Doctor Three, how can I help you? Do you want me to beat Rider for you?" Connor smiled at the smaller man.
"You allowed MI6 to find out that you had captured Rider. Did you not?"
Connor obviously realised that he was in trouble as his eyes widened slightly and he straightened up to attention. "I thought… that you didn't care if Rider was rescued? You just wanted him to suffer. Right?"
Three was visibly unamused. "Why would you think we would allow Rider to go free? The boy has been a pain. He has lost us millions of pounds in work; lost us our reputation as well as killed members of our board."
"You just.. you just said you wanted him to…to suffer," Connor stuttered as he cowered before the Chinese man.
"We want him to suffer. We also want him dead and now MI6 will come after us if they link us to you. So how are we going to fix this?"
Connor said, "They might not find him. They know I have him but not where. And I won't tell them that I'm working for Scorpia."
"No you will not," Three stated bluntly as he stepped forward and swiftly punched Connor in the temple. Connor collapsed to the floor in a pile.
Connor awoke in a dark room similar to Alex's. It was surprisingly different being on this side of the cell. Worse even than not knowing what had happened to the other prisoners because it caused you to remember all the torture techniques that you had been taught. What would happen to him?
"Fuck" was one of the few words which seemed to be on an eternal loop in Connor's mind. When panic sets in, the brain stops focussing on trying to be articulate and instead becomes something resembling a Hollywood producer: every scenario which you imagine ends in disaster. Normally you can reason with yourself that the chance of one small mistake resulting in your slow and gruesome demise was being a bit over dramatic. However, when you become an international criminal then your fears become real: you make a mistake on the job, you die; you insult a co-worker, you die; you embarrass the bosses, you die (slowly).
The door opened revealing the light hallway beyond. One of his fellow Scorpia agents, known only as Jay, entered silently before closing the door behind him.
"You certainly know how to screw things up, Connor," Jay drawled, "Lucky for you, even though you fucked things up majorly the bosses have decided to give you a second chance."
Connor's eyes widened hopefully, "They're not going to kill me?"
"No, although Three certainly wasn't happy with you."
Connor sighed, "Thank god." He continued, "What do they want me to do?"
Jay gave a small smirk, "It's a simple plan really as long as you don't fuck it up".
As the day rolled on, Jay explained the plan which was so simple a toddler could carry it out, which was just as well if Connor was doing it.
