Stephen was completely shell shocked as Terrance's thugs held him face down on the pavement, passersby glancing over but going about their business as normal, not wanting to interfere with whatever was going on. Despite having not seen him in months, his old political rival still bore the same shit eating grin that he so despised. Rage rose in his stomach as he met the gaze of the man that had ruined his life, wishing he could throw off the heavys holding him down and beat the incumbent PM within an inch of his life. Of course, this was only a fantasy, not something he would be able to accomplish in his current position. The best he could do was spit out "what the hell do you want?" with as much venom as he could muster. It didn't come off as intimidating as he expected, voice wavering as he spoke probably in part due to the humiliation Rosie had just put him through. Terrance just chuckled amiably in response, not even remotely phased by the outburst.
"Gentlemen, could you let the former leader of the country up please, I'm sure he's not going to put up a fight, isn't that right Stephen?" He cocked his eyebrow at him, waiting for his reply.
"No, I won't," Stephen answered begrudgingly as the two men picked him up off the floor and ushered him towards the rear door of the SUV. Stepping inside the car, Stephen hoped that Diane would be sitting in the passenger's seat, but was disappointed to find it empty. The larger of Terrance's security guards took up the other rear seat beside him and the other rode next to the Prime Minister. The large, sleek, expensive vehicle pulled away from the curb and their journey to an unknown destination began in silence. "So what exactly is it you want?" Stephen asked after a few minutes, patience wearing thin as fear rose inside of him. He was alone, no-one knew where he was and he wouldn't put it past Terrance to have him 'rubbed out.' His links to the elite of the country would certainly make it easy enough for him to cover up a murder and Stephen's brain continued to race with possibilities, desperate for any clue of what was going on.
"We can talk once we get to Number 10 old friend," Terrance replied calmly, flashing a smile over his shoulder as they waited at a red light. "I can promise you however that you are not in any danger. Tom and Edward are just here to protect me, isn't that right boys?"
"Correct sir," they both replied in unison. They were clearly both well trained, most likely from a military background and undoubtedly generously compensated for their skills. Terrance could certainly afford to pay top dollar for his own protection.
"Things have gotten rather messy lately Stephen, but I think we can get everything all straightened out, so just sit tight, we'll be there soon." As the journey continued, Stephen felt a little more at ease, but he knew he would need to stay on his toes to deal with whatever Terrance had planned. Eventually the SUV pulled up to a disused building a few streets away from Downing Street and Stephen instantly recognised it. When he had become Prime Minister, the head of MI5 had arranged a meeting with him during which he disclosed several national secrets, including one pertaining to a hidden entrance to Number 10. Inside the seemingly abandoned house they were currently parked was a cellar door, which looked completely normal to anyone who might happen to stumble across it. If a code was entered onto a hidden keypad, the cellar door would open revealing a hidden underground tunnel that went directly to the Prime Minister's office. The outside of the building was covered in scaffolding, the signage for a fictional building firm adorning it in order to not raise suspicion. In previous years it had been disguised as a solicitors office and a small family home, among countless other covers for its real purpose.
It had been incredibly useful for the ruling political class, allowing them to sneak in people that would not be able to enter via the usual means, for a variety of purposes. One former leader had used it to smuggle in prostitutes, others to speak with vilified world leaders and countless other purposes which were too many to mention. Ironically, it was this passageway that Stephen had used after his night of infidelity with Rosie, it was almost appropriate that he would now use it on his return to his former residence. The two members of Terrance's security detail stood on the pavement to ensure that the Prime Minister and his guest could enter the house without being noticed by any members of the public before following them inside and locking the door behind them.
"Did you use this much when you were in charge Stephen?" Terrance asked jovially as he pulled aside the section of the wall that hid the keypad. "I've found it quite useful, but of course they've changed the code since your unfortunate fall from grace." There it was again, that arrogant, posh boy, 'better than you' smile. Stephen considered just taking his shot, throwing a punch at the man he hated most on the planet and then dealing with the consequences, but logic won out. If Terrance wanted to hurt him, he would have done so by now and in a three on one situation, he would lose any potential fight that could break out. Best to keep his cards close to his chest and wait to see how this all played out before making a rash move without knowing all the facts.
"Yes, I used it a few times," Stephen replied, trying to keep things amicable as they descended the stairs, "but I preferred trying to be as transparent as possible. If the public ever found out about this place, they'd have a field day."
"Yes, agreed," Terrance answered as they started their walk down the long strip light lit corridor, "but after seventy years as a secret, it's pretty unlikely anyone will ever know about it. Unless they are elected of course," he chuckled, pleased with his own remark.
"Quite," Stephen replied as he walked alongside him surrounded by bare brickwork, Terrance's security officers trailing close behind and keeping an eye on his every move.
"Here we are," Terrance said jovially as they reached the stairs at the other end of the passage, walking up them and opening the secret hatch in the PM's office, emerging into the very same place where the blackmail had started all those months ago. The place where Stephen's life had started to unravel. "Take a seat Stephen," he offered, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. As Terrance's heavies secured the trap door and covered it up with a beautiful Persian rug, Stephen weighed up his options. Deciding to take a seat, he watched as Terrance opened up his desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey in a crystal decanter, along with two glasses. After putting them down he produced a small wooden box and a lighter before settling down in the luxurious leather chair that he had commissioned and made to his exact specifications. The two security guards took up position behind him, folding their arms and looking stern, eyes not leaving Stephen for even a second.
"Ah, that's better isn't it?" Terrance asked as he pulled the stopper out of the decanter, pouring a healthy measure of the strong brown liquor into each glass before handing one to Stephen across the table.
"I'm okay thanks," he said between gritted teeth, doing his best to remember that he was at a severe disadvantage right now.
"Oh come now Stephen," Terrance drawled, "this is the finest whiskey in the land, bottled by hand at a tiny distillery in Orkney. This one bottle costs more than most people get paid in a month. Now take it." His last three words were deep and authoritative, making it clear that Stephen didn't have a choice in the matter. Begrudgingly he leaned forwards to take the glass and sat back in his chair, trying to look relaxed as the scent of Rosies ejaculate still in his facial hair wafted into his nostrils, reminding him of where he had been less than an hour earlier. Why exactly had he been brought here? What did Terrance want from him?
Taking a swig from his glass, Terrance smiled like the cat who had got the cream, opening the small wooden box and pulling out a thick Cuban cigar. He snipped the end off before popping it into his mouth and lighting it up with a spin of the wheel on his sterling silver lighter. Everything about him was decadent and expensive, begging to be seen as wealthy and successful. Stephen had always found it pathetic, but sitting in his damp clothes, stinking of sex and shame, there was only one pathetic man sitting in this room. After drawing deeply from the cigar and exhaling a cloud of thick smoke, Terrance turned to his security. "Wait outside, I'll call you if we need anything."
"Are you sure sir?" the larger man asked, eyeing Stephen warily.
"Certainly, me and Stephen are old friends aren't we?" he asked, turning to look at his former rival for his approval. "He won't be doing anything crazy, after all, he's a smart man, I'm sure he knows that any kind of physical attack would be pointless, isn't that right Stephen?"
Stephen sighed. He was right there. Even if he tried to get his hands on the man he so hated, he would only have a matter of seconds before those two thugs would be on top of him and any punishment he managed to dish out would be repaid two or threefold if not more. He took a sip of the whiskey, scowling a little at its harsh flavor, swallowing before addressing the other three men. "Yeah, you've got nothing to worry about," Stephen said in a defeated voice.
"Okay sir," said the security guard, seemingly satisfied with his answer, "we'll be right outside the door if you need us." With that, they made their way out of the office, both of them eyeballing Stephen as they left, making it clear what would happen if he did anything stupid. As they were left alone, Terrance took another drag on his cigar, picking up his glass and getting out of his chair to look out of the window.
"Ah, finally just the two of us, eh Stephen? Mano a mano." he mused as he indulged in the combined pleasures of tobacco and alcohol in the comfort of his luxurious office. "I guess it's time we get down to business old chap" Walking around his desk, he took a seat on the edge of it, one leg slightly raised off the ground as he faced Stephen, reaching over to pull an ashtray within reach so he could smoke at his leisure.
"So, why exactly have you dragged me here?" Stephen asked as he tried to hold his nerve, gripping his whiskey glass hard.
