The Captive A bucket of cold water hit his face like icy needles, awakening him instantly. Shaking the droplets from his eyes, he unconsciously took stock of his situation: suspended, both arms manacled at shoulder height (wrists chaffing already), knees on stone floor. He stood to take the weight off his arms and opened his eyes. No windows, walls of well-dressed stone, stairs to left, blocks laid fairly recently, one section of wall covered by a heavy curtain - and one of the ugliest brutes he had ever seen thrusting a lump of stale bread in his face. The hunchbacked, misshapen creature finally settled upon stuffing the bread into his left hand before sloping up the stairs and closing the massive, iron bound door behind him. He was left with only a flickering torch in the single cresset for company.
So, where was he? From the state of the walls the building was fairly recent, no more than twenty years old. Unlikely to be in the Marais, then. In a cellar on the Isle de Notre Dame perhaps? No, not damp enough to be so near the river. More likely to be around the Place des Victoires or in one of the new mansions in Louvre quarter, near the Palais Royal. Who had mansions here? More to the point, which government ministers didn't? De Mylcandonai lived in the Palais now. Perhaps that's where he was? If not, he had the mansions of all the the other members of the government to choose from: Von Fersen, Chabot...his blood froze. Chabot! He must have been spotted once too often at the inn on the Rue du Fauberg St. Honor� where he'd been intercepting the Fromage Conspiracy messages. Perhaps that's why the trail of evidence from the egg-throwing scandal was leading inexorably to his door - at least until the hasty departure of the previous Commissioner had allowed him to muddy the waters somewhat? Perhaps, having failed to get him framed for that outrage they were now just going to make him disappear? What could he do to stop them...? He pulled desparately at the manacles binding him to the wall - but they held firmly, as he knew they would. Bluster? It would seem the only option. He had a two hour wait before the door at the top of the steps opened again and he had the chance to try it... "About time too! Look here, I am a serving officer in the armies His Majesty King Louis and I DEMAND that you let me loose IMMEDIATELY !!!" The slight man who walked down the steps, dressed so soberly that he could have been a Huguenot preacher, was less than impressed. "Good Day Colonel, or should I say 'Master Ferret' for, as you must well know, it is your activities on behalf of the Commissioner which have brought you here." "Ferret? Whatever are you talking about!!? My connection with the Commission ended years ago, Sir, since which time I've been nothing but a bluff, simple soldier!" "Come, Come Colonel! You do yourself an injustice. Your interception and copying of our correspondence over the past few months has put us to no end of inconvenience. A man should take what credit he can for his achievements, wouldn't you say?" The captive visibly sagged - they knew far too much for bluster to get him anywhere. His only hope was that the Commissioner would find him before his interrogator did him too much damage to hope for recovery. "Cat got your tongue, Colonel? Pity since, as you must have gathered by now, the only reason for bringing you here was to get you to talk. Please don't harbour any illusions about your ability to keep silent for long." So saying, he drew back the curtain to reveal the wrack and full array of torture implements which the Captive had already begun to fear might lie behind it. "Everyone who comes here talks, Colonel,...eventually." Nothing for it but to put a brave face on things and see if his suspicions regarding his captor were correct. "And what could I possibly tell My Lord Marquis that he does not already know?" The interrogator hid his surprise well, but not well enough for it to pass the notice of veteran operative. "So much for the bluff, simple soldier, eh Colonel? You'd be surprised how much you could tell us. How much the Commissioner knows, whom you have implicated, has the Fromage code been broken, if so when will the Commissioner strike. There are numerous minor details you will help the Master with. I'll conduct the first interview in half an hour. Until then you can admire my little collection and decide whether or not to cooperate." The soberly dressed man had almost reach the top of the steps when the Captive called out to him. "Wait! How did you manage to drug me? I saw no unfamiliar faces in the Club last night..." "That's because their were none. As you will soon come to appreciate, however, Chevalier Guillaume has still not quite forgiven you for the part you played in his year of exile at the front. I do hope that you take the sensible course, Colonel de Frost..." The cold, sinister smile which suddenly split the interogator's lips came straight from the jaws of Hell. "Then again, I do so enjoy this work..."
