[Shaun]

Hugo came to in a dark, damp cellar. She couldn't remember much of the past 6 hours, but knew that it didn't take long for her world to be turned completely upside down. Her eyes tried to readjust to the overwhelming darkness that engulfed her, but to no avail. One sense down, she took to feeling the surroundings and listening out for clues. Suddenly, she thought.

"Mark? Are you there?" she whispered. Her voice sounded weak and she became aware that she was very thirsty. There was a short silence before a voice responded.
"Te rog, nu mai mult!" came a frantic reply, from a foreign and unknown source.
Brilliant, Hugo thought, alone in the dark and with foreigners. She got to her feet and stumbled; her Manolos were snapped in the struggle into the back of the van. She tried desperately to remember what had happened merely hours before.
Was she in prison? Had she been raped? Was Firewire behind this? Frenzied thoughts dashed around her mind before she was caught unaware by a sudden flash of light.

The cellar door above her flew open and one of the men from the kidnapping ran down the stone steps to them. The light suddenly gave Hugo a chance to identify her situation; all that accompanied her in this Hell was a Romanian woman in a slump and a few dusty mattresses on the floor, with some ragged blankets. They didn't look cashmere, she thought.
"Tu. Vino aici." the man demanded, and the woman on the floor stood up reluctantly. He grabbed her by the arm and shoved her up the stairs. Hugo took this as an opportunity to bargain with her captors.

"Hi, erm, I love that sweater on you. Look, uh, can I get something to drink?" she did her best at seeming polite and timid, but received a slap in the face regardless. The man shut the door and Hugo was immersed in darkness once again.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in London, Gary paced the kitchen floor whilst listing off orders and demands to his hapless wife, Shaun. As she swept up the broken plate and nachos and fought back the tears, she struggled to keep up with Gary's cool, calm and collected approach.
"We're going to fly out there straight away, call BA and see when the next flight is. We'll get Rory to pack our bags. I need to phone Linda..." Gary listed.
"Linda?" Shaun asked, taking a heightened interest.
"I worked with her on the force for 20 years, she's the best friend and ally I have in this mess." Gary quipped.
In the hallway, Rory had assembled a few changes of outfits and essentials in their bags, and began carrying them to the Waldorf's BMW.
In the car ride to the airport, Gary snatched the phone off his wife and began pushing in numbers viciously. He waited for a few rings before the other line picked up.

"Hello?" a Scottish female voice said.
"Linda, it's Gary-" he began.
"Oh Gary! Long time no speak!" Linda seemed genuinely enthusiastic to speak to her old colleague.
"Yeah I know. Look, Linda. Are you free?" Gary enquired.
"I guess...the kids flocked the nest long ago, ye ken aye?" she replied.
"Err. Right. Look, something's happened to Mark, I don't know who or how - but she's been kidnapped." he recalled.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Where?" Linda didn't really know what to say. She had only met the Waldorfs' child once, the last time she visited Gary and Mark was only 4 years old at the time. That must have been almost 15 years ago, she thought.
"She'd literally just touched down in Rome with her friend, Hugo. I don't think you know her. Right stuck up bitch. Anyway, they were going to see Britney in concert-" Gary was interrupted again.
"Oh, she's not overdosed yet?" Linda quipped.
"NO. I was speaking with her, she was in the hotel..."
"Who, Britney?" although inquisitive, Linda was prone to the occasional off-colour joke.
"Ha. They'd just got there, when all of a sudden I hear this blood-curdling scream."

Rory pulled up to some traffic lights and an unshaven David began wiping the car's windows. Shaun flicked him an offensive gesture and Rory rolled his eyes, and drove on, running over David's foot.
"Mark said there was someone in the hotel room", Gary continued, "and that they'd grabbed Hugo..." Gary's voice wavered.
"Look, are you flying out there now?" Linda asked.
"Yes."
"I'll be over there as soon as I can. Get to the hotel and demand to speak to the detective in charge, chances are there'll still be witnesses there..."
The severity of the situation dawned on Gary as he listened to Linda's sound advice. Eventually they arrived at the airport, where Gary thanked her for the help, and ran with Shaun to the passenger's boarding gate. Rory drove home without a word.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


In a barely-furnished and gloomy apartment in Rome, a large man sat at a table surrounded by some formidable-looking associates. He greeted them with a thick Geordie accent.
"How many do we have now?" his manner was calm, but there was a hint that he would be able to flip at the flick of a switch.
One nervous employee summoned the courage to answer his master.
"S...seven, sir." Kizwiz was unsure whether this would please or anger the master who she was so keen to serve.
"I see."

The man took a handkerchief and wiped the gravy from his chin.
"Well. Whilst this is an impressive number, we still need more. If we are to meet the requirement, that is."
"And what is the requirement again, sir?" Red Moon asked.
The master stood up. He was wearing thick leather boots and camouflage trousers, with a wifebeater vest and leather jacket on his upper body. Dog tags hung loosely from his neck, and he wore a pair of dark sunglasses. He took them off and placed them on the table.
"Are you stupid?" he asked fairly innocently.
"N-no, sir." Red stammered.
"Were you listening when I went over this the first time? Or the second? Or fifth?" his voice was raising in volume.

All of a sudden his plate was thrown mere inches away from where Red Moon was sat, and the switch had been flicked.
"I NEED AT LEAST 10 OF THESE ****ING TIBB *****S IF I'M TO PRESENT A WORTHY SACRIFICE TO MARK AND JAMES. THEY'LL ****ING LAUGH AT 7."
He threw his glass and smashed his chair, and Kiz and Red ran for the door.
"I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU UNTIL YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER 5." he yelled, and slammed the door behind them. He returned to his armchair and took deep breaths, looking at a wall in front of him. On it were the pictures of several TiBB members, some captured, some still...out there. Roaming around. The thought of it turned his stomach. His eyes then fell upon the central picture, which had a caricature crown doodled on top of its head. This made him smile. Graeme Stickings, Administrator. It had a nice ring to it, he thought.