"Wake up!" said a snarling voice, the first words Shane was able to make out as he regained consciousness. He was only able to stir a little, but then he jerked suddenly as his face was struck with shocking cold. He pulled back, trying to avoid the cold, but his arms were pinned behind him.

Shane sputtered and spit out the icy water, then opened his eyes.

"How nice of you to join us." Lawrence Alamain stood only a few feet in front of Shane, a tight smile on his face. "I should thank you for saving me the trouble of orchestrating your capture. You have made things so much easier for me."

Shane had no idea what Lawrence was talking about, but he said, "You're the one who made a mistake. We know where you're hiding."

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that. Nobody is coming to your rescue, Captain." Lawrence paused for a moment and seemed to think. "Perhaps, I need to amend that. What is the proper title for an ex-Captain? Mister just doesn't have the right ring to it."

Shane did not respond. He just glared at Lawrence and tried to regain his bearings. He was in a windowless room filled with computer and video equipment. On the video screens, he could see surveillance footage of the refinery site.

John. Shane suddenly remembered that he had been with John. He heard Marais say, "Take Mr. Black down by the river and take care of him."

Shane looked at the screens, trying to find some glimpse of John on them. Please be alive, he thought.

"Looking for something?" Lawrence asked. "The cavalry is not coming to your rescue, Captain. Or are you looking for John Black? Oh, I guess it doesn't make that much of a difference for me to tell you that he is still alive. Those incompetent fools couldn't complete the job. That hardly matters to you, though. Nobody is coming to rescue you. They'll be lucky to ever find your body."

Despite Lawrence's threat, Shane actually felt relieved. John was alive. Shane had dragged John into this mess and, at least, he was okay. Taking some strength from that relief, Shane shook his head. "Still with those empty threats, Alamain. You always were much more bark than bite."

Lawrence stepped close. "Trust me, Captain. . . . Soon, you will see my bite firsthand. And when that happens, I assure you . . . you will beg to die."

"I always thought you were delusional," Shane said, forcing his voice low and even. Deep inside him, he could feel a tiny flame of fear, but he doused it. If he was going to live through this, giving in to fear was not the way to do it. He looked Lawrence in the eyes. "You won't get away with this. We will stop you."

"'We'?" Lawrence repeated with a laugh. "From what I can see, you're all alone here. There is no 'we.' This time, Captain, it's just you and me." He turned his head to Marais. "And my associates, of course. In fact. . . . This is quite the reversal of our last meeting, isn't it?"

Shane did not know what Lawrence meant, but he could see the insane gleam in the man's eyes.

"Yes . . . the last time we met," Lawrence said. "In the warden's office."

Shane barely had a chance for that to register before Lawrence's fist slammed into his solar plexus. The air rushed out of his chest and he doubled over with a pained grunt. With his already limited breathing, it took Shane a long moment to recover. Finally, he managed to look up at Lawrence. "That your best shot?"

Lawrence seemed surprised that Shane remained so defiant. He doesn't know me at all, Shane thought. Then Lawrence smiled. "Of course. In our last visit, you didn't just strike me once." He swung his fist again, this time striking the side of Shane's face with as much force as he could muster. The blow snapped Shane's head back, but he recovered quickly.

Shane could feel some wetness where the punch had struck, but he laughed when he saw his attacker. Lawrence was clenching his hand in pain. Something told Shane the strike had been more painful for Lawrence far worse than it had been for Shane.

Unable to stop himself, Shane began to taunt his captor. He had no idea what he might gain from it. A quick death perhaps, not the slower torment he suspected Lawrence had planned for him. Or maybe some information about Lawrence's plans that Shane might somehow find a way to get to John.

"You have a lot to learn, Alamain," Shane said. "Your father may have been a leader, but he left behind nothing more than a child. That's all you are - some pretend king with delusions of importance."

Lawrence's face began to turn red and he motioned to one of the guards holding Shane. The man let go of Shane's arm and stepped in front of him. Shane tried to break free of the other guard, but he had too tight a grip.

"Show Captain Donovan what you will do if your 'pretend king' asks," Lawrence ordered.

Shane managed to brace himself for the blow to his ribs, which was far stronger than either of Lawrence's punches. He doubled over again and had to gasp for breath until the pain passed. "So that's how it is," he spat. "You let others do your dirty work like a coward."

"You are too concerned with your ridiculous notions of honor, Captain," Lawrence said in a mocking tone. "All that matters is who wins. The victor makes his own honor." He chuckled. "Like tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Shane could tell that Lawrence wanted to brag about his plans. "More delusions of yours, I suppose."

Lawrence laughed loudly. "No delusions at all," he said. "Tomorrow, the world will learn to fear the Alamain name." He walked over to Shane so they were only a few inches apart. "You, dear Captain, have a definite part to play. Think of it as my cinematic masterpiece, which will showcase both the grand spectacle - the effects-laden set piece, if you will - while also showing the intimate, human drama at a much smaller scale."

Shane tried to figure out what Lawrence meant, remembering his obsession with movie special effects. Was that what this was all about? The toxin that could kill thousands was just some spectacle to him.

"You're insane," was all Shane could say.

Lawrence laughed. "Great men have always been accused of being insane, but I assure you that I am perfectly in control of my faculties. And, tomorrow, the world be forced to acknowledge my greatness." He turned to Ivan. "Take Captain Donovan and find him some secure accommodations for the night. And, while you are at it, have the guards show him a little more of your 'pretend king's' hospitality."