Linda Harris glanced at her watch. It was 7:15 and Ian was meant to have picked Alex up at 7! If it had been a Friday night or the weekend, she would have minded less, but both boys had school tomorrow and needed to get to bed… but she couldn't get Tom ready for bed while Alex was still here. She pulled out her phone and rang Ian's mobile. It went straight to voicemail. Great, she thought. She couldn't even get hold of him to see how far away he was, or what time he thought he would arrive.

"Okay boys," she said, "you need to start packing up the toys. Ian will be here soon to pick Alex up."

"Five more minutes? Please, mum?" Tom pleaded.

"You said that five minutes ago. You need to tidy up now so that you can get ready for bed when Alex has gone home."

"But we're in the middle of our game!" Tom protested.

"I gave you a few minutes to finish up, Tom. You can carry on after school tomorrow but you need to pack away now."

Begrudgingly, Tom started to pack up the toys. Alex helped him much more willingly.

Leaving the boys tidying, Linda phoned Ian again. Once more, it went straight to voicemail. Suppressing a sigh, she hung up and glanced at the clock again. 7:20.

"Alex, sweetie," she asked, going back into the lounge, "do you know the phone number for Ian's work?"

"Umm," Alex said, thinking for a moment. "Maybe."

"Do you know the name of the company he works for?"

"He works for a bank." He screwed his face up in thought for a second before his eyes lit up. "It's called the Royal and General."

"Okay, let's see if we can call Ian's work and see if they know how long he'll be."

"Okay," Alex said cheerfully.

Linda was used to Ian being a few minutes late every now and again. She knew that he had to commute across London and sometimes got stuck in traffic but it had never been this long without Ian calling to let her know that he was delayed. He always called if he was running more than a few minutes late; he was reliable in that sense, at least.

Sitting in the dining room while Tom finished tidying the toys away, Alex managed to remember the phone number and Linda rang Ian's work.

"Good evening. You're through to Amanda at the Royal and General Bank. How can I help you?"

"Good evening. I was just calling to see if Ian Rider has left work yet? I'm looking after his nephew and he's late picking him up and I can't reach his mobile."

"Can I take your name?"

"It's Linda Harris." Then after a moment's pause, she added "And his nephew is Alex." Why the bank couldn't just tell her, she didn't know.

"Okay, let me have a look for you. I'll just put you on hold for a moment."

"Thank you."

Linda smiled down at Alex who was looking at her with a slightly puzzled expression.

"The lady is just finding out when he left for me," she explained.

They sat quietly, the jazzy hold music getting on her nerves the longer she listened to it. It was a few minutes before Amanda came back on the line.

"It looks like he left just after six o'clock. Did you say you'd tried his mobile?"

"Yes. He usually calls if he's running late but I've heard nothing from him and his phone is going straight to voicemail."

"Maybe it's out of battery and he's stuck in traffic?" Amanda suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," Linda said doubtfully. "Thank you for your help." She hung up the phone.

"Hopefully Ian'll be here soon. Why don't you go through and help Tom finish tidying?"

"Okay!" Alex said cheerfully and slid down from the chair.

Linda cradled her head in her arms for a few moments before sitting back up and getting a glass of water. She checked the time again; it was nearly half past seven and she couldn't put off getting Tom ready for bed any longer, no matter that Alex was still here. She tried Ian's mobile again, but it went straight to voicemail once more.

"Okay, Tom," she said, going into the lounge. "It's time for bed."

"But Alex is still here?" Both boys were obviously confused.

"I know. Ian's running a bit late but you still need to get ready for bed."

Meanwhile, MI6 knew exactly what was going on; Ian Rider had left with plenty of time to pick Alex up at 7, but something had gone drastically wrong. All of their agents' cars were fitted with black boxes so that MI6 could track their location and would know immediately if the car was involved in something that appeared to be a collision. They had been alerted to an incident involving Ian's car just after 6:30 and had quickly found the CCTV footage of what had occurred.

Ian Rider had been taken by Scorpia.

Thus far, no demands had been made. No communications had been received at all. Ian's personal tracker had been taken offline, too. Whether it had been physically removed, deactivated or he was being moved in a vehicle that prevented it from transmitting, they didn't know. They would just have to wait and see if it came back online and be ready to act if it did. They had traced the van that he had been shoved, unconscious, into, but it had moved onto a route without CCTV cameras very quickly. Even with agents and police closing in to the van's last known location, it seemed increasingly unlikely that they would intercept the van before Scorpia got away.

Looking at the situation reports, Mrs Jones was becoming increasingly concerned. Ian wasn't just an ordinary agent where Scorpia were concerned. He was John's brother. He had adopted John's son after Scorpia had killed him and Helen. But they had left Ian and Alex alone for more than six years now, so why had they decided to make a move today? Was it anything to do with John's betrayal? Or was it related to a job that they had accepted? Whatever the reason, Mrs Jones was sure that Scorpia would make Ian suffer.

And now there was Alex to think about too. Some provision had to be made for him, at least for tonight. She decided that, if Linda Harris was agreeable, Alex would be best spending the night there. She could take him to school tomorrow and that would give them time to make other arrangements, if necessary. Mrs Jones sighed and picked up the phone.

Linda's phone rang while she was sorting out something for Alex to watch on the television while they waited for Ian. It wasn't a number that she recognised and an uneasy feeling that she couldn't understand settled in her stomach as she went into the kitchen to answer it.

"Good evening, please can I speak to Linda Harris?"

"Speaking."

"My name is Mrs Jones. I am Ian Rider's boss at the Royal and General. I understand you're looking after Alex at the moment, is that right?"

"Yes that's right," Linda replied, the knot in her stomach tightening.

"I've just had a phone call from the police." The feeling in Linda's stomach tightened. "I'm afraid Ian's been involved in a car accident. He's been taken to hospital. Is Alex able to stay with you tonight?"

"Of course," she gasped. "Is Ian okay?"

There was a pause before the woman at the other end of the phone spoke softly. "I don't know. The police wouldn't tell me."

Linda swore softly and thought of Alex sitting patiently on the sofa, waiting for Ian to come and get him while Tom got ready for bed. She would have to tell him that Ian was hurt. That she didn't know how badly or what was going to happen next.

"I'll keep you updated if I hear anything."

"Thank you," Linda whispered. She took a few deep breaths, trying to compose herself before she told Alex.

She got him a clean pair of Tom's pyjamas and a spare toothbrush, and while he got ready for bed in the bathroom, she gently explained to Tom why Alex would be spending the night. Then, with both boys ready for bed, Linda sat down and began to read them a story. She had never been more grateful for the fact that they had bought Tom one of those bunk beds with a desk and futon underneath than tonight. It meant that Alex wouldn't have to spend the night alone and, instead of having to scramble to find a spare bed, she could simply pull out the futon and have a bed ready in just a few minutes.

Once she'd finished reading the story and tucked both boys underneath the covers, she crept out of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar so that the light from the hallway lit the room slightly. Then she went downstairs and poured herself a big glass of wine. She took a large sip and then decided to prepare lunches for the boys for tomorrow and tidy up before collapsing onto the sofa.

Ian's head was throbbing. He knew that something was seriously wrong, but his head was too fuzzy to work out what it was… that was a point; what had happened? Where was he?

Ian squinted his eyes open. What he saw, even if it was out of focus, filled him with dread. He was in an interrogation room. There were shiny things on a tray not too far away. He couldn't work out exactly what they were, but he guessed that they would be various ways to torture him.

He realised that he couldn't move his arms at the same time as a hand violently slapped his cheek. Ian's head span, but the force of the blow did clear his mind a little. He was strapped to a chair. The air in the room was cold. There was the distant dripping of a leaky tap. None of this was good.

He could remember his car being hit now, and the group of men that flooded out of the van, surrounding him with guns raised. There had been nothing he could do to take them out. His car was too badly damaged for any of the built-in weapons or protection systems to be of any use and he himself had hit his head and couldn't think clearly anyway. He remembered one of the men stabbing a needle into his arm and realised that he must have been drugged into unconsciousness before being brought here.

Where was here? he asked himself again, now that he was thinking a little clearer. With a groan, Ian opened his eyes a bit more and took in the scene before him. A man was standing in front of him, a horrifically gleeful expression on his face and Ian knew that whatever was about to happen would not be pleasant.

Doctor Three, member of Scorpia's executive board and torture expert, was standing in front of him.

"I see that you are aware enough to know where you are, yes?" Then the man shrugged. "Perhaps not exactly where, but you know who I am and therefore what is about to happen to you."

Ian had to repress a shudder. He was sure that the man would see his every emotion, would be able to understand exactly what he was feeling, just by the smallest change in his expression or body language and would use it against him. When Ian did not reply, Three slapped him again. He remained silent, knowing that the worst was yet to come.

Two days. That was how long Ian thought that it had been since he had first woken up in Three's interrogation room, but the drugs, probable concussion and lack of daylight to track the days by, meant it was hard to be sure. And he had no idea how long he had been unconscious for before he'd woken up… he could have been drugged for a few hours or they could have kept him under for days or weeks… Why hadn't MI6 come for him yet? Had Scorpia known about the tracker implanted underneath the skin of his forearm and removed it? Had they sent a rescue team in but been unable to reach him? Neither of those options were good.

Since he had woken up, the pain had been constant, but he knew that he would be able to hold out for a while yet - Scorpia weren't the only ones who put their agents through RTI - but Three was an expert. He enjoyed this. And, Ian thought bitterly, Scorpia had more personal reasons to hurt him than most of the agents they got their hands on.

Three wanted information but Ian hadn't given him anything yet. He put all of his training into practice, retaining information about what Scorpia wanted to know while blocking out the pain as best he could.

From everything that he had heard, torture with Doctor Three wasn't as bad as Ian expected it to be. He would never have wanted to be here, but he was surprised to find that although it was painful, he hadn't been brought close to death yet. Maybe it was just because Ian hadn't revealed any of his information and Three certainly needed him alive for that, but it seemed like the man was deliberately not harming him as much as he could… and that worried him.

Another session ended and Ian was dragged back along the corridors to the cell with an old and dirty mattress on the floor where he spent all of the hours that he wasn't being tortured by Doctor Three, chained to the wall. There were no windows in the cell and there wasn't a light either, so all the time he spent in there was in complete darkness.

Some time later, Ian jolted awake as one of the guards came in to take him to another session and light flooded in. He had managed to get some sleep, then. That would definitely help him later on, when the torture began again.

He had tried not to think of Alex too much over the past few days. Worrying about him wouldn't help him to stay strong and stay alive long enough to be rescued. MI6 would have made arrangements for Alex's care as soon as they knew that Scorpia had taken him, so he would be safe. But whenever he managed to squeeze in a couple of hours of sleep, Alex was always at the front of his mind when he woke up and he had to force the thought of him away.

Ian wasn't sure why, but he had an incredibly bad feeling about today. But he cleared his mind as best he could, as he had been trained to, and tried to prepare himself for what was to come as he was dragged down the corridor. He was strapped into the same chair as he had been for the last few days, his stomach still churning like a warning that something was going to happen, and he waited. He was left alone for a while… that hadn't happened before…

He closed his eyes and practiced his breathing exercises.

After perhaps ten minutes, the door opened again. Ian opened his eyes and glared at Doctor Three as the man stepped into the room. There was something about Three's expression that filled him with more dread than usual… as though the man was particularly excited for this specific torture session… that could not be good.

"I want you to know, Ian, that you have had a much milder experience than most of the enemy agents who cross my path," he said as he picked up a scalpel and examined it. Ian's heart began pounding in his chest. "You see, Scorpia never forgive and we never forget. And you owe us a debt. Your brother caused significant damage to us and our operations. We, therefore, plan to do the same to MI6." He paused and began pacing around the room. "You may be wondering why we have waited more than six years to make our move. The answer to that is quite simple; we are patient. And we were patient enough to wait for an opportunity to get our revenge whilst completing an assignment for a client. To kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes." With every word the man spoke, Ian's stomach twisted and tightened in a knot of anxiety and dread. "And you are not the only relation of John Rider's who still lives." Ian's mind instantly went to Alex. "What better way to get our revenge on the person who betrayed us than torturing his brother… by hurting his son?"

No! Ian's heart was hammering at more than twice its usual speed. He thought he was going to be sick. Three had to be buffing! MI6 had to know that Scorpia had taken him and would have protected Alex!

But, deep down, Ian knew that his worst fear was coming true. Three wasn't the type of man to hint at something that he didn't have the means to back up. If he was threatening to hurt Alex, then he had Alex. The fact that Alex was just six years old would make no difference to what Three planned to do to him.

Three pressed another button and the one-way glass mirror that he was facing cleared and became an ordinary window. Alex was lying there, motionless, strapped to a bed, a range of knives and other torture devices on the table beside him. Ian's blood ran cold. His throat was tightening. He couldn't breathe.

"Good morning Alex," Three said into the microphone beside the window.

Alex stirred. He pulled against the straps and began panicking when he couldn't move.

"What's going on?" he shouted, the terror clear to hear in his voice. He was turning his head from side to side trying to see who was speaking, but his side of the glass must have been mirrored - he didn't see them.

"You're going to help me with something. A special project that I'm working on, you could say."

"Who are you? Where's Ian?"

"Ian is helping me too."

"Please," Ian pleaded when Three flicked off the microphone, his mouth dry and the words coming out in nothing more than a hoarse whisper. "You don't have to do this."

"You're quite right that I don't have to, Ian, but I want to," Doctor Three said with a sadistic smile and a delighted glint in his eye. "There's nothing you can say to stop what is about to happen. There is no information that we want that could save him. You see, our client has paid us to strike a blow at the heart of MI6 and they allowed us to choose the method that we thought most suitable. You are one of their top agents. And killing you, as well as young Alex here, will, I think, incentivise them not to cross us again, don't you?"

"Please. He's got nothing to do with this!"

"It is fun to see you begging. You have been the consummate agent throughout your short stay with us. You have revealed nothing through days of torture that would have broken quite a few men, even if it was not up to my usual standards. But threatening your nephew is what has broken you. If there was information that we were after, I believe you would give it all up for the hope of saving him. Unfortunately for you, there is nothing you can do. But I can have so much fun. Alex is certainly the youngest to ever cross my path and it will be interesting to see how much his body can take before it gives out… then it will be your turn."

Ian was writhing against his bonds but he could not break free. He was still pleading with Three to leave Alex alone, even though he knew it was pointless. There was nothing that he could say or do that would change Three's mind.

The man left Ian's interrogation room and entered Alex's a couple of seconds later. He stood there, examining Alex and the instruments beside him before finally settling on a tiny scalpel.

Ian shouted and writhed and screamed, not caring that Scorpia would be watching him, that this was exactly what they wanted. He couldn't sit idly by as Three hurt Alex. He had to stop it. He had to protect him!

Alex saw the blade and screamed, shrinking into the bed, but held in place by the straps. Three was looking down at him with what Ian could only describe as 'professional curiosity'. Ian was going to be sick. His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't breathe. He was going to have to watch as Doctor Three hurt Alex. How far would he go? How much would Alex suffer before Three had enough and killed him? Ian knew that Three would not waste this rare opportunity of having a child on the table in front of him. He would show no mercy. No leniency. He would keep going until… Ian couldn't even bring himself to think that most awful of thoughts. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his view of Alex. Ian blinked them away, trying to focus on escaping so that he could save him. But there was nothing. No way out.

Before Doctor Three could actually do anything, he looked up towards the door. He was having a conversation with one of the guards, but Ian's head was spinning and he couldn't hear what they said. Three glanced at Ian through the window and then strode purposefully out of the room.

Ian breathed the faintest sigh of relief. Alex had been spared for now. He had to get him out before Three returned. He had to get Alex to safety! Then he heard something. He paused for a second in his frantic struggle to escape. Gunshots. Had MI6 finally arrived? When it was almost too late!? The realisation hit him that must be why Three had left - the guard must have told him that MI6 were here and he had made his escape.

He was still trying to break free a few minutes later when the door burst open. Whether they were on his side or not, Ian didn't know but his priority was getting free and getting to Alex.

"Ian?" one of the men said as he cut Ian's bonds. "We're here to get you home."

"Get Alex," Ian said hoarsely, staggering to his feet.

"Who's Alex?" the man who had freed him asked, grabbing hold of Ian's arm to steady him.

"Nephew. Three took him too."

"We weren't told about anyone else. Just you."

"He's there!" Ian shouted, pulling his arm away and pointing through the window.

"There's no one there," one of the agents said. "We have to go."

"I'm not going without Alex." Ian pushed past them and stepped into the interrogation room that Alex was in. It was empty. There was the tray of gleaming instruments but no sign of Alex.

How was that possible? Ian had just seen him through the window… unless the window was a giant monitor, displaying footage from another room in the compound? Or footage from earlier. Three could easily have tortured Alex while Ian was being held in the room where he'd gotten a couple of hours sleep…

"You need to search the compound," he ordered the agents who had freed him. "There's a boy. He's 6 years old, he's got blonde hair and brown eyes. And he's about this tall," he said pointing at the point where the top of Alex's head rested on his chest.

"There's no one here but you, Ian," one of the agents said, calmly. "Scorpia's agents cleared out after putting up a fight. Three must have gone with them."

"He had Alex! He was strapped to a table and Three had a scalpel and he was going to hurt him." A wave of horror crashed over him. If the compound really was empty, had they taken Alex with them? Were they still going to torture and kill him, even if Ian wasn't there to witness it? His blood ran cold.

"We have to go!" an agent shouted.

"There must be cameras. They must have set up cameras," Ian mumbled, thinking aloud.

He moved towards the corridor, planning to find the cameras himself even if the agents MI6 had sent didn't believe him that Alex had been here too, but a couple of them blocked his way.

"We have to get out of here, Ian," one of them said.

"I'm not leaving without Alex," he growled, making to push past them.

They reached out to grab his arms, but Ian took them out with a couple of well aimed strikes. He had no proof that they actually were MI6, and he wasn't going to go with them without checking for himself that Alex was not here.

He heard someone run up behind him and kicked out at the right moment to take them out too, but his foot hit only empty air. At the same moment, something stabbed into his arm. It took him a few seconds to realise what had happened. But just before his brain reached its conclusion, Ian collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

"I just spoke to Mrs Jones," one of the agents said, reappearing at the door and examining the chaos of the scene in front of him.

"Ian has a six year old nephew called Alex, but he's had a permanent guard since Ian was taken. He's safe so Ian can't have seen him here."

"Let's get him back and then they can run tests," the leader of the raid said. "We don't want to hang around here any longer than we have to."

From his secret bunker, hidden underground, Doctor Three watched the screens with interest. The drug that he had injected Ian Rider with had worked better than he could have dreamed. He had suggested that Alex would be hurt and that was precisely what Rider had seen. There had been a bed with a dummy strapped down and a table of scalpels and knives, and Rider's mind, aided by the drug, had filled in the blanks. It was a shame that MI6 had shown up as early as they had - it would have been interesting to see just how much Rider could have been pushed into believing - but Three certainly had enough evidence to prove that the drug worked. It would be a useful tool to have.

Ian Rider woke up to the sound of beeping and the hissing of an oxygen tank. His eyes fluttered open and he saw Mrs Jones sitting beside his bed.

"Alex?" he asked groggily. He wanted to ask 'where's Alex' but his voice hadn't agreed to even just one extra word.

"Alex is safe, Ian. He was never with you in that compound. Doctor Three never came near him."

Ian prepared himself to argue when Mrs Jones continued, cutting him off before he could talk.

"Doctor Three was trialling a new drug. It made you very open to suggestion. In your case, he planted the idea that he was going to hurt Alex, so that is what you saw. But I promise you, Ian, Alex was being discreetly watched by a team of agents the entire time we knew you were missing. Scorpia never made a move on him."

"Where is he?" Ian wasn't going to believe her until he saw Alex was safe for himself. He couldn't get the image of Alex screaming, shrinking away from Doctor Three out of his mind.

"He's at school. I can arrange for him to come here after school. That will give you time to rest."

"I won't rest until I see him for myself, Mrs Jones," Ian said, grateful for the fact that his voice seemed to be working normally now.

"Try to, Ian. One of us will be in to debrief you properly after lunch." She stood up and left the room.

Ian rested back on the pillows after Mrs Jones left and examined his injuries. He was wrapped in swathes of bandages but nothing was broken and he knew that the bandages didn't hide anything too horrific. All in all, there was nothing too serious, although he would probably be left with plenty of scars, as if he needed a reminder of what had happened.

Despite Mrs Jones' suggestion, he knew that he would be unable to relax until he had Alex safe in his arms. Even if Doctor Three had left Alex alone this time, there was nothing to stop him making good his threat in the future, and that thought filled Ian with more dread.

He was momentarily distracted from his thoughts by Dr Hayward arriving and examining him.

"You've had a lucky escape, Ian," the doctor said once he'd completed his checks.

"It doesn't feel like it," Ian replied, sinking back onto his pillows again. "I need to know that Alex is okay. Everyone's saying he is, but they didn't see what I saw. They didn't see Three standing over him, ready to hurt him."

"Doctor Three injected you with a drug that put you into an extremely suggestive state. He never had Alex, but his words coupled with the drug made you think that he did."

"I know. Mrs Jones said. But that doesn't change what I saw. I will never get those images out of my head."

"Try and get some rest, Ian," Dr Hayward said. "Mrs Jones said that someone will be back to talk to you after lunch and then Alex will come here from school."

"Yeah she told me that too. But I can't wait for hours. I'm not going to get any rest until I see him and I won't be able to relax until I know, for myself, that he's okay."

"I'll see what I can do, Ian," Dr Hayward said gently. "I can't make any promises, but I'll make some calls."

"Thank you, Roger."

"What are friends for? Now, do you need anything else before I go?"

"No, thanks."

Dr Hayward looked at the clock. "It's only about half an hour until you get lunch, so you don't have long to wait. I'll let you know if I get an update."

"Thanks." He knew it was unlikely that he would see Alex any sooner, but he could hope.

Lunch came and went - Ian didn't eat much - and Mrs Jones arrived back in the room shortly after.

"Did you get any rest, Ian?"

"Well, I stayed laying on the bed and that was as good as it was going to get. Where's Alex?"

"Crawley is going to bring him here straight from school. He's been told that you were involved in a car accident."

Ian just nodded.

"Now, if you're ready, we'll do your debrief."

They hadn't long finished going over the events of Ian's time in Doctor Three's care when there was a knock on the door. Ian looked over expectantly and relief washed over him as he saw Alex's face.

"Ian!" he shouted, running over to the bed.

"Hey little man! Are you okay?"

"I'm better than you, Ian!"

"We'll be just outside," Mrs Jones said, tactfully leaving them alone.

"Climb up and join me, Al," Ian said, lifting the corner of the blanket up so that Alex could join him underneath it.

Alex clambered up and laid beside him on the bed. Ian gratefully wrapped an arm around him, draping the blanket over his shoulders and held him close. Alex burrowed as close to him as he could, and Ian's heart broke as he realised just how anxious Alex had been for the past few days. But, as they hugged each other close, they both began to relax.

They laid quietly together for a long time and Ian would have been happy to stay like that for hours. Alex was here. He was warm and safe and whole. Doctor Three hadn't hurt him. But even knowing that and having Alex beside him, Ian would never forget the sheer terror he had felt when he though that he was about to watch Alex be killed in front of him and be unable to stop it. He would never forget that image of Doctor Three standing over Alex's terrified body holding a scalpel and preparing to make the first cut.

But for now, Ian pushed those images out of his head and focused on Alex lying next to him. For now, he could breathe a little easier and once he was discharged, he would make sure that they had more protection in case Scorpia tried to take either of them again.