Thank you so much for all your reviews! They really encouraged me to carry on. By the way this story is set after Crocodile Tears, as if Scorpia Rising never happened.

Escape

The time passed by (although with no way of telling when it was night or day, or any clocks, he had no idea how much time). Alex constantly thought of his escape plan – the rusted metal at the back of his cell remained unnoticed. But every time Alex was brought back to his cell he was either restrained with metal cuffs that the rusted metal could never break or too tired to even stay conscious. A couple of times he was drugged up so much he couldn't tell which way up the ceiling was. The situation was horrendous, but Alex found that he was able to cope – he could manage the horror. Adapting to new situations had always been easy for him, and this was just a new situation. While he was in a state of constant pain and exhaustion, the thought of his escape plan kept him strong.

Eventually he had his chance. And he took it.

He had been left alone after a session that had finished rather nastily. The man who had been supposed to have been dealing with Alex for the entire day had obviously been out late the night before. He looked tired, and after electrocuting Alex on and off for about an hour, he fell asleep (while Alex pretended to be unconscious).When he had awoken he had been furious that Alex hadn't woken him (and scared that the Boss would find out). While he had been treated pretty viciously when the man had awoken and realised his mistake – beaten with the man's belt buckle until blood ran down his back and pooled on the floor – he had been able to rest and recuperate during most of the day. When the Boss had found his man beating Alex senseless Alex had pretended to be hardly conscious, and the Boss had stopped the man and decided Alex could be brought back to his cell. After all, there was no point in beating him if he wasn't awake to feel.

He was tied to the chair with rope, not metal cuffs. He was alone and he wasn't exhausted. He could finally start his plan. Bracing himself both mentally and physically, Alex shuffled the chair over to the wall and moved his wrists up to the sharp metal edge. He moved his wrists forwards and backwards, ignoring the pain that rubbing them caused. The metal in the wall tore his skin as well as the ropes, and he felt fresh blood dripping down over his hands. After what seemed like hours, the ropes fell away.

Alex stood up, heart pounding. He moved carefully over to the door, keeping quiet. He pushed it lightly, and was unsurprised to find it locked. Certain that he would be able to hear if someone came near the door, he sat down on the floor. He must have still been fairly tired from his efforts, because he fell into a light sleep.

He was awoken by the sound of footsteps. For a second he panicked, before quickly rising into a ready position beside the door and preparing to spring. His only advantage would be surprise. The door opened and Alex lunged immediately, putting his hand around the man's mouth and bringing his legs up and around the man's waist. They both fell silently, and Alex rolled on top of the man and whacked him in the head with his elbow, causing him to fall unconscious. The whole thing had been soundless.

Not for the first time, luck was on Alex's side. The man had been by himself – by the look of it he had been bringing Alex breakfast – and he was armed. Alex took the cereal bar gratefully and shoved it into his mouth, knowing he would need the energy. He also took the gun; it felt oddly right in his hand, although he hadn't held one since his time with Scorpia. There was extra ammunition in the man's pocket, which he also pocketed.

He brought the gun up in front of him as he stepped into the corridor, but it was empty. He knew the layout pretty well from all his time here, but he still didn't know where the exit was, or what was outside. He could be in Albania and he would have no idea. Still, he made a pledge that they weren't going to take him alive again – he would rather be in a shoot-out to the death than face another day here. He ignored the doors along the corridor, despite knowing that there were other prisoners behind some of them – he didn't know how far through the Boss's 'process' they were.

He went to the end of the corridor, and through a door he had never been through. Inside the room two of the men who he knew well from his 'sessions' were chatting. They looked sleepy and unaware, and they took a few seconds to notice him. As soon as they did they both lunged for their guns. But Alex was faster. He shot the first one in the chest when he had barely moved, and the second one just as the man brought his gun round towards Alex. The gunshots rang out and filled the small room; they were followed by the sound of the bodies hitting the floor. Alex had never shot anyone before – he felt both appalled and slightly vindictive. After all, these men had never shown him any mercy.

He swallowed his repulsion and searched the bodies – he was rewarded with a mobile phone. Luck was definitely on his side today. It didn't have any signal, so he pocketed it for later.

Knowing that the gunshots would have alarmed anyone nearby, Alex went straight through the door at the other end of the room. It revealed another corridor, with one of the men running along it, towards him. Alex already had the gun raised and he fired it without hesitation – it was easier the third time, something he tried not to dwell on. The henchman went down with a groan. Alex moved along the corridor and rushed to the door at the end. Behind it were stairs – a lot of them. He started up the first flight, quickly becoming out of breath (he wasn't in good shape after his prolonged capture). He kept on going, losing count of how many stairs he had climbed. Eventually he reached the top, and found a door. He stepped into the room, gun first.

Behind the door was what looked like an ordinary living room. It had a television in the corner and a squashy, comfortable looking sofa. The walls were lined with book cases; one of these cases was attached to the door that Alex had just opened, concealing the underground network of rooms. Alex pushed it back in front of the doorway, not wanting anything to look out of place.

He quietly padded through the perfectly ordinary looking house. Covered in grime and blood, with no shirt or shoes, he felt out of place in the clean environment. He found the back door in the kitchen and opened it, stepping outside cautiously. The bright sunlight burned his eyes after so long without it. It warmed his whole body, reducing the pain he was in.

The house was apparently somewhere in the countryside – there were no other houses in site, just fields and a single road leading away from the house. It looked like England though. He checked the phone again but it still didn't have any signal. Cursing, he looked around for a car. While the Boss appeared not to be here today, he didn't know if an alarm had been raised or if the Boss was on his way. There were only two cars in the driveway – either the henchman carpooled or they lived on base.

It was then that Alex realised he didn't know how to hotwire a car. There was no way he was going back inside to find the keys. He walked up the side of the road instead. There was a hill up ahead, before the road split into two directions. Alex took the left on impulse. Eventually he came to another split, and went left again. He was thrilled when he finally got mobile reception. First he checked Google maps to find out where he was; he was in the Chilterns, not far from London.

He didn't have the number for MI6. There was no way he was calling the police; he would have to explain everything and they would probably not believe him. Plus they were hardly inconspicuous. There was no way he was risking getting caught; if that meant leaving the other prisoners with the Boss so be it. He tried the house phone, but Jack didn't pick up. Her mobile went straight to voicemail. The only other person he could think to try was Tom. His friend picked up after the fifth ring.

"Hello." Tom said, sounding bored. Alex felt about a hundred times better after hearing his friend's voice – one of the hardest things about his captivity had been the isolation and loneliness.

"Hi Tom." Alex replied, trying to sound normal. His voice was hoarse from lack of use.

"Alex! Where the hell have you been? Are you back from a mission?" Tom said enthusiastically – he had obviously been worried about Alex, and assumed that his friend was safe and home.

"Not exactly. Tom, I need someone to come and get me. I'm in the Chilterns. Do you know anyone who can drive here?" Alex's voice cracked as he spoke, and he realised how much he needed help. He was in a lot of pain, and he was desperate. The Boss's aim had been to break him, and the aim had nearly been achieved. He was holding himself together with sticky tape.

"Jerry's visiting. I can ask him." Tom's reply was concerned.

"I'll text you the road and GPS coordinates. Can you bring shoes and some clothes, as well as some food and drink?" Alex asked. He was starving.

"Sure Alex." Tom sounded frightened.

"Please be quick. Hopefully I'll see you soon." Alex said, before hanging up. He texted Tom where he was, as promised. Then he sat down slightly off the side of the road, hiding behind a bush so that nobody could see him.

After about an hour a car pulled up – Alex recognised it as Jerry's and stood up, quickly walking over and getting in the back. Jerry was sitting in the driver's seat and Tom in the front. His best friend was staring at him in horror. Alex wondered what he must look like. His bare feet were covered in mud and blood and his torso was a complete mess.

"Drive." Alex instructed, "Avoid any towns, if possible." Jerry obliged, stamping his foot down on the accelerator.

"What happened to you?" Tom asked, aghast.

"A lot." Alex said with a sigh. "Do you have any food?"

"Sure." Tom passed over the food and a shirt, which Alex gratefully pulled on.

"How long have I been gone for?" Alex asked through a mouthful of crisps.

"Nearly eight weeks." Tom told him. "They said you had the flu."

"Eight weeks." Alex sighed. "Jesus Christ. I wasn't sure if it was days or years… That's two whole months of my life."

"Where were you?" Tom asked.

"With a particularly unpleasant set of people." Alex said, simply. "I need to contact MI6 – can you drive me to Liverpool Street?"

"Do you not want to go to the hospital?" Tom said, looking at Alex pointedly.

"I will. As soon as I report in to MI6. There were more captives where I was – they'll need to do a raid quickly. I wasn't willing to call the police myself; they might not have believed me or arrested me. And if they took me down to the station the Boss would have known where I was and might have come to get me. Only MI6 can protect me now." Alex explained.

"The Boss?" Tom inquired.

"Not someone I am ever willing to come into contact with again." Alex said with a shudder. "Unless I get to kill him." He added after a thought.

"That bad?" Tom asked, looking concerned.

"I just killed three people." Alex said, sounding disgusted. "What difference does one more make?"

They drove on in silence. The adrenaline of the escape had completely worn off and Alex was exhausted. He closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. Please, please, please leave a review… it will probably make me update faster too.

More about Alex's time as a captive will be revealed later on. Also, should Jack be in this story or not? If you have a preference just tell me in a review (or anything else you would like to be in this story).