Black Butterfly by Mark Gatiss

became aware of my silvery head bobbing at the window.
    Rooted to the spot, I watched as the white-coated man strode across to a console on the far side of the room. Leaning over, he flicked a small red switch. In the corridor, a Tannoy system crackled into life.
    ‘Kemal?’ came the technician’s voice, his heavy accent distorted further by the microphone. ‘Where the hell have you been? Stop gawping and get yourself down here, will you? This one is tough.’
    I weighed up my options. If I made a run for it, the torturer would become suspicious and no doubt alert others. On the other hand, I’d come seeking information. I would see what I could discover! So, fastening the straps on the gas-mask and hoping that, with my face obscured, I could somehow pass for the missing Kemal, I made my way down the stairs.
    By the time I entered the operating theatre, the white-coated torturer had returned to the captive Kingdom Kum. ‘Now,’ he hissed at the semi-naked youth, ‘you will start talking. You will die, of course. How quickly and how painlessly, my friend, is entirely your decision.’
    Kingdom Kum remained silent.
    The torturer chuckled menacingly. ‘So you are the tough guy, yes? Like in the John Wayne pictures, yes? Well, we shall see how long that lasts.’
    White-coat paused and glanced over at me. ‘What’s the matter with you today, Kemal? Must I do everything myself? Oh, and take your gas-mask off, you coward. There’s nothing dangerous in here.’ He resumed his appraisal of Kingdom Kum. ‘Well, apart from me, that is.’
    Silently, I made my way over, and stood just behind the torturer’s right shoulder.
    Kum turned his head towards me and stared intently into my face. Then slowly, insolently, he spoke to White-coat. ‘I’m telling you nothing, baby. But your friend here–if he asks nicely, can find out everything I know about Black Butterfly.’
    What strange game was this? Was he bargaining for his life?
    Then things happened very quickly. Turning to face me properly for the first time, a look of confusion crossed the torturer’s face.
    ‘Hey,’ he accused. ‘You’re not—’
    I lashed out with my fist, catching the fellow under the chin. He was flung against the wall and crumpled into a white heap.He reached into his coat for a gun but I was instantly on top of him, pummelling him into unconsciousness with rapid blows from my balled fists.
    From the operating table came a soft chuckle. ‘Man,’ said Kingdom Kum, ‘you’ve still got it.’
    ‘All right, my friend,’ I snapped. ‘Now would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?’
    ‘I said you had to ask nicely, Mr Box,’ grinned the youth.
    I aimed the Steyr at his face. ‘This is as nice as I’m feeling right now,’ I hissed. ‘Talk.’
    Kum shook his head. ‘No time. We have to get out of here fast.’
    I snorted with derision. ‘So now you’re expecting me to help you escape ?’
    ‘Come on, baby. You saw the mess I was in. You honestly think I’d be strapped to this thing if I was working for these goons? Believe me, we have to leave, and we can help each other do it.’
    Every instinct within me protested and yet, moments later, I had released Kingdom Kum’s shackles. Old Boxy getting soft, you might think, eh? Well, not so fast. I wasn’t taking any chances. Now, I may be a fool for a pretty face, but this was not the time to let my guard down.
    ‘Warily, I released Kingdom Kum’s shackles and then watched as he struggled into his torturer’s clothes. Soon the two of us were walking swiftly from the operating theatre, gas-masks firmly in place, the Steyr in the small of the youth’s back.
    In the corridor, we passed no one apart from a sweating technician rushing in the opposite direction–presumably the tardy Kemal. I intended to get the two of us out of there pronto, and meet up with Whitley Bey and his men in the forest. My ‘hostage’, however, had other ideas. He pulled up abruptly outside a white