“Would you like anything before I have my men tear off your jaw and cut out your tongue?”

The words echoed off hollow walls built of thin corrugated sheet metal. A single lamp hung down from a ceiling veiled in shadows. Two shiny leather shoes attached to pin striped slacks were the owner of the voice that asserted the portentous claim.

“A cigarette would be nice.” A man bound at the wrists uttered the words as he attempted to shuffle in his seat. His legs were tied at the base of the chair he sat on. His blood and sweat slowly stained the exposed wood grains in the old chair. His head swayed from side to side in an attempt to see the man who spoke to him from the darkness beyond the glow of the light bulb.

A large clenched fist came into view from the left and shattered his focus that he had seconds before. His temple took the blow that reverberated through to the other side of his skull and out of his right ear…