Llewellyn doesn’t hear the footsteps until they’re almost on him.

A hand grabs the back of his coat and yanks him off balance, dragging him into a narrow alley before he can shout. “Based on your actions, you may be the man i've been looking for.” The words are cut short as something heavy strikes the back of his head. Pain flashes white, and the ground rushes up to meet him. “Ah, well. Today's you're lucky day, cause i've been found.”

Darkness.

When he wakes, his head throbs and his mouth tastes of iron. He blinks, disoriented, then looks down, his hands are tied in front of him, rope wound tight around his wrists. He’s seated on the floor now, back against a wall, the alley replaced by a dim, unfamiliar room.

A man stands a few paces away.

“Finally,” the man says flatly, “I must admit that for a moment there i was concerned that i struck you too hard.”

Llewellyn lifts his head with effort. “You'd do well to let me go right now.” he says, voice hoarse, “I'm a police officer.”

The man laughs, sharp and strained. “That's not all you are.” He steps closer. “I know all about you and your 'shenanigans'.”

“Is that so?,” Llewellyn answers, steady despite the ache in his skull.

“Where's Jack Walker?” The man asked impatiently. “I don't know.” Llewellyn shoots back.

The man grabs the rope between his wrists and jerks him forward. Pain shoots up his arms. “You expect me to believe that?”

“You don’t have to believe me,” Llewellyn says through clenched teeth. “But hurting me won’t change the truth.”

A hard blow lands against his side, knocking the breath from him.

“Try again,” the man snarls.

Llewellyn coughs, then forces himself to meet his captor’s eyes. “I’m telling you the truth,” he says quietly. “And every minute you keep me here makes this worse for you.” Llewellyn let his head hang when his captor doesn't answer. He could only hope his collegues were looking for him. He could only hope to be found before it was too late.