"So, what do you want then?" Ian asked.
"No beating about the bush eh, Ian?" The man nodded. "Very well." He glanced back at the club, which was still swarming in police. "When I said we did that," he waved a hand at the chaos behind him, "I was only telling you half of the story."
"I don't get it," Ian said. He was having trouble focussing. He'd been awake less than ten minutes and a lot had happening in that short time.
"It was us, but it was also... another group."
"What?" That woke Ian up. "What other group? Who else could do that?"
"They were after you, we think. We arrived about the same time as they did and the situation... got slightly out of hand."
"I'll say," Ian said.
"We beat them off, no pun intended," the man continued, "but by then the cops were on the way. So we had to... dispose of any witnesses. Sorry about your friend." He didn't sound sorry.
"Well, he'd run his course," Ian said, distractedly. "So, I assume I'm not screaming under torture because you would like me to do something?"
"Yes. Well done, such a lovely boy, and so quick on the uptake." The man lifted Ian's chin with a smooth hand, raising his head and looking at him with a slight tilt to his own head.
Ian went cold.
"Such a shame," he said to himself. "Next time maybe." He stroked Ian's cheek and then dropped his hand.
"This group calls themselves 'The Red Hand,' for reasons we aren't sure of. Probably because it sounds 'cool'. Still." He took a deep breath and looked around before continuing.
"They're still gathering their strength, which is why we think they were looking for you."
"I'm not sure I like where this is going," Ian said, beginning to twig.
"Of course you are. It will be fun. An adventure." The man smiled his smile again. "We don't know where the leaders of this Red Hand are, and we don't know who they know in our operation, so we would like you to infiltrate them for us. Say you got away from us, we'll make it convincing, and get them to trust you. I'm sure for a boy of such charm that won't be hard."
"But I don't know where to find them!" Ian complained.
"Oh, don't worry, they'll find you I'm sure. We'll hang back this time. Unless you would rather the alternative?" Smile. "Oh, there will be a test first of course."
"Of course," said Ian. "Written or oral?"
"Such a clever boy." The man stroked his cheek again. "Well, let's start then. I'm sure they're watching us. The test is: You will need to escape from me."
"I see." Ian nodded. This was a training scenario that he was well familiar with.
"I'm sure you do. Such a clever boy. Quick on the uptake for sure. If you haven't got away before we return to where I'm staying, then we shall consider that a fail."
"No doubt that will be fun for you," Ian said.
"So cynical for one so young," the man replied. "Now, where's my car?"
He waited until the car came between them and the multitude of emergency services and then slapped Ian around the head.
Unexpected as it was, Ian had been trained by the same methods, and his unconscious at least, was half ready. He deflected some of the blow and rolled with the rest of it, which had the added effect of making him look like he'd been knocked down.
He kept rolling, and so the following kick only grazed him. Then something grabbed him and slammed him against the car, holding him steady as several more kicks didn't miss.
"There now, that should be convincing enough," the man said.
Ian, now gasping for breath, winced as another shape loomed over him. The man, or possibly half gorilla, was dressed in a classic chauffeurs uniform, and loomed over him like a terminal asteroid about to strike the earth.
"Put him in the car," said the man.
Gorilla driver grunted, and some unseen force dragged Ian off to the side, and then catapulted him into the rear of the vehicle, which turned out to be a limousine of some kind. Ian landed on the floor.
The man climbed in after him and sat demurely on the seat. The door closed of its own accord and then, a few seconds later, Ian felt the car begin to move.
"The journey back to where I'm staying takes about forty minutes or so, depending upon traffic," the man said. "I suggest you don't hold back."