Fair.

Claire sat, hands tied behind him to a chain set in the wall. His cell was dark, the only light came in through a small window high up in the ceiling, and cast a sharp rectangle in the floor before him.

Claire heard the turning of a lock and some footsteps, a shadow stepped into the light before him, a tall man of sturdy build, wearing what appeared to be an almost military uniform. His face carried thin spectacles, but his eyes were piercing, as though he didn’t need the glasses at all.

“You wont believe the trouble I had to go through to get a hold of you Clark… or would you prefer Claire?”

“Eat shit!”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway, what’s in a name after all?” The man shrugged and pushed his glasses up his nose. “If you care my name’s Polot, but you probably recognise me from all my posters anyway, perhaps even from the television, you’re an enlightened child of Koob after all.”

Claire spat at Polot and turned to face the wall away from him.

“Now that attitude just wont do, not when I was going to give you your book back.”

Claire turned sharply to see Polot holding his white event book.

“Why would you give me that?” if Polot had kidnapped him, he must have known how dangerous Claire could be with that book.

“Well I know you could easily misbehave with it, so I got some insurance against that.” Polot clicked his fingers and a monitor came on across the wall beside Claire showing a prisoner in another room.

“MOTHER!”