Neil woke to an unfamiliar room. After being marched from the sitting room, he had ben led downstairs to a white room where Valentine's secretary, Gazelle, had given him a glass of water. "Drink it. Or we shall use other means". Her gaze had been steady and he knew that she wasn't joking. Valentine and his father obviously didn't know his day job. Both of them thought he was the spoiled wayward heir that he presented to the public. It was better for him if he played along with that fact. So he had drunk the water. It took less than a minute for the drugs to take effect and his body to crumple. The last thing he had seen was Gazelle smiling calmly as he slumped to the ground. 

Now he was somewhere new. The room was circular with a domed ceiling. The walls and ceiling were rough bare stone, as if the whole room had been hollowed out. That was the first thing he saw. The floor was soft grey carpet, clean under his fingers, and various furniture occupied the space. A massive curved bed, that reminded him of seedy love hotels he had visited in Japan and America, stood in it's own alcove in the wall. A leather couch was in another corner with a metal table. What surprised him was the small metal pole hanging from the opposite wall where a small selection of clothes hung. A doorway in the wall next to it led to a small bathroom complete with shower and stocked with toiletries. The whole place was fancy and plush, the only thing that made it obvious that it was a cell was the heavy metal door that stood directly opposite the bed. He could see a small metal hatch at eyes level and another on the floor just big enough for a food tray. 

He groaned and sat up. Whatever drug they had used, probably a sedative if he had to guess, had left him with a feeling that reminded him of being vaguely hungover. He had been dumped on the floor in the centre of the room and a part of him was rather affronted by the lack of care. (He had been kidnapped or held captive before in far worse conditions, but still it was a matter of pride). A hand ran through his hair as he took another glance around. He was still in his suit from the night before. There were no windows and he had no idea of how much time had passed. His watch was missing. (Along with the poison darts he kept in them. Damn). In the corner of the room above the door was the slight shine of glass. A camera. They were watching him. 

When he stood up, he made sure to do so slowly and with a slight shakiness. They thought he was some rich boy who couldn't do anything. It was best he kept playing that part, especially if they were watching him. He dusted off his suit, pulling a face at the wrinkles in the fabric. The air in there was warm from heating, from the floor he guessed. For when he touched the wall, the stone was cold. Freezing cold. Maybe this place was carved out in a mountain as he had first guessed. That would mean that Merlin wouldn't be able to locate him from the trackers in his shoes. (At least they had left his shoes. They had knives in them if worse happened). 

He shivered and used the action to checking himself a slight check over. He still had a ring on his finger, that would act as a voltage to shock someone into incapacity. There were still his shoes of course, and when he checked his pockets he found a pen. It wasn't much but it would have to make do. His glasses were broken and anything of note had been taken, including his phone and wallet. (He was surprised that they hadn't taken the pen). He also was wearing a kingsman suit, which was stab proof and only mildly bullet proof. But he wasn't sure how long he would be able to keep it. Judging by the clothes, they would expect him to change at some point. 

He made his way round the room under the act of weary curiosity. The furniture was all bolted to the floor and the coat hangers were unmoveable from the pole. The bathroom door was a sliding glass mechanism that disappeared into the stone. He doubted he could use it in any means for escape but at least the glass was opaque (perverts). The mattress was moveable, he discovered after rolling across it. (It was incredibly comfy). Pillows were plush and the duvet was warm but they wouldn't do much in a fight. He could smother someone with them but that would take too long. 

 In the bathroom he found a plastic toothbrush along with toothpaste at the sink. Under the sink was a shelf with skin creams and a electric shaver, which he found when he pulled it out, was on a metal wire attached to the wall. He could only use it in the bathroom. The mirror was fixed to the wall and the shower was another stone alcove with a glass door. In there he found a shelf with shampoo, conditioner, face wash and body wash. There was even a pink loofa hanging from it and he couldn't help but snort at the sight. This was by far the most comfy cell he'd ever had. 

An hour later, there was a knock on the steel door. Knuckles sharp on the metal. Neil had paced the room a few more times, before stripping from his jacket and lounging across the bed. At the sound of the knock, he sat up just in time to watch as the top hatch slid open. Valentine's face was visible in the gap and the man grinned at him. "Hello there Mr Draven! How are you enjoying your quarters?" 

"I suppose they aren't bad", Neil remarked coldly. He stood and walked towards the door lazily. "Not as nice as my apartment though. All these shades of grey and blue aren't really my style. Navy and Saxe and cloud? Definitely not. I am afraid that it washes me out. Id' fire your interior designer if I were you. Speaking of my apartment, when can I go home?" He leaned one shoulder against the door as he peered through the small window. Outside he glimpse see concrete framing more metal doors and soldiers in white carrying automatic weapons. 

Valentine chuckled. "I'll make note of your design complaints Mr Draven. But I am afraid you're going to have to live with it. Unless you agree to my conditions and undergo the chip procedure of course". 

Neil smiled but it was sharp and without humour. "I am not going to let you place a chip in my head, nor agree to let you kill billions of people Mr Valentine. I am not like my father. Did his procedure go well by the way?" 

"Your father's procedure went splendidly", Valentine smiled back but Neil could see the forced charm and the irritation building in the man's eyes. Distantly, he could hear muffled shouts from the other cells . "He is now fully on board and hopes to see you join him soon". 

The news cheered Neil up. He had seen what the chip had done to professor Arnold. Maybe he could find a way to trigger the same response in his father. That was a goal to achieve. "You should have done more homework on us", Neil chuckled. "Because when have I ever agreed with my father? It's even been in the papers quite a few times. No, Mr Valentine, the day I join you is a day where I rot in hell". 

Valentine's smile vanished. "Then I am afraid you won't ever be leaving Mr Draven". The hatch slammed shut and there was the click of a lock. Any sound from outside cutting off.

Neil sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was worse than he had thought. The door was at least and inch thick steel and the hatches were locked from the outside. He hadn't been able to see any locking mechanism at all and expected that it would be out of reach if he ever tried to reach it through the hatches. The stone surrounding the door frame was also a challenge. He couldn't access the wires if they were encased in stone. The cell might be comfortable, but it was also clever. There was only one exit and it was almost impossible to get out of without help from the exterior.   

All he had to do was wait it out, hope that Valentine didn't discover who he was and pray that a plan came to mind. He was just glad that he was too important to kill. Though, if Valentine discovered his ties with Kingsman, then that could change. 

unedited