Okay, here's the third chapter. Hope you guys are still enjoying it, your reviews are helping me update this story a whole lot faster than my other, lol.

'Myres?' Sam tried the name out on his tongue and was surprised at just how weak his voice was. It sounded like a mouse had crept into his throat and was speaking for him. For some reason that thought made him smile.

'You think any part of the situation you're in is funny cop?' the man in front of him spat, grabbing Sam's jaw and angling his head so the captive DI had no choice but to look him in the eye. 'you're just like him… sitting there so self assured, well I'm telling you, you won't be feeling in such high spirits by the time we're done with you.'

With that he let go of Sam, pushing him head back roughly against the wooden chair in which he was seated, and stalked out of the room, the heavy metal door, slamming shut behind him.

Sam's stomach sank, as he heard a lock side into place, sealing him into the damp smelling, pitchy blackness of the small room.

'Fat lot of good you lot are, I want him found for fucks sake!'

Gene Hunt was not in the best of moods, and as Manchester CID cowered behind their desk he yelled, cursed and hollered himself hoarse, demanding Sam Tyler's location, all to no avail. It was not until well past midnight, long after Phyllis and Cartwright forced him into letting his men go home, that the phone in his office rang.

'DCI Hunt,'

'Myres' Gene snarled, 'what the hell do you want, you oxygen wasting excuse for a man?'

'Now, now Genie, there's no need for name-calling, I just thought you might be… missing something?'

'You bastard,' Gene breathed into the phone, 'what the hell have you done with him?'

'why I haven't laid a hand on Sammy-boy, if that's what you're referring to.' Myres grinned at the police officer's harsh tone, 'why…a little worried are we Genie?'

'I don't have time for your fucking games Myres, now where the bloody 'ell is my officer?' Gene barked, annoyed that the scum he was talking to could hear the emotions in his voice he was not yet comfortable acknowledging, even to himself. But damn if he hurt Sam…

'Don't worry your self one bit about you officer,' came the reply, 'he's right here with me, fast asleep, well… for now'

The call disconnected.

Sam gazed around his prison. As far as he could tell it was nothing more than a concrete walled room, not a lot larger than the holding cells back at the station, with one solid looking door and no windows; it was not a very escapable looking room. Especially not when tied tightly to a chair.

So absorbed he was in his study of the walls he failed to hear the approaching footsteps, and so was surprised when the heavy door to his right swung open to admit the man who had introduced himself the day before, or at least, Sam thought it was the day before. The only light in the room was artificial and it had not been turned off at all, so Sam's concept of time was probably a little thrown off, he estimated it to be around 8 am.

'DI Tyler, glad to see you awake. I trust you find the accommodation suitable?'

'What the hell do you want from me?' Sam asked, ignoring the man's mocking question.

'Well, Gene Hunt is rubbing off on you now, isn't he?' Myres laughed, crouching down to make eye contact with his prisoner, 'I'll tell you what I told him,' Suddenly he struck out, backhanding Sam across the face, sending his mind reeling and poking to life the nausea from the day before, 'it's not nice to curse Sam,'

The man began to circle him, like a vulture, or a predator stalking it's prey. It was unnerving, despite the fact Sam knew what he was doing, had used the technique himself during interrogations. Myres spoke again

'Really it's a shame we have to hurt you Sam, but you see though he might not show it, Gene Hunt cares about your well being, more so than the rest of his CID team it would appear. If we hurt you, we hurt Hunt, which is the aim of the exercise.'

'Why do you want to hurt Gene?' Sam asked, immediately cursing himself for using Gene's first name, showing the level of familiarity they shared. 'and I'm sorry but you're going the wrong way about it, he doesn't care about me… if I die, he'll have to waste time looking for another DI, it would annoy him is all' Sam insisted, hoping and praying his words were lies as two large, muscled men appeared in the doorway.

'Oh but that is where you are mistaken, Gene does care for you, as he cares for all his team, but mostly about you. I've been watching the two of you Sam… he trusts you, listens to you, respects your opinions, he also sticks close to you at crime scenes, watching your back… oh yes he cares. It's really nothing personal,' he finished, straightening abruptly and tossing a flick knife to one of the two men, and disappearing from Sam's view. The thugs moved closer to the bound man…

Well… let me know what you think.