They’ve been gagged and bound for nearly two days, hands stretched over their heads, feet tied together and tethered to the floor. All three figures—two men and a woman—bear their incarceration stoically. There were initial attempts to work free of the restraints, but they proved fruitless, and eventually all three resigned themselves to waiting.
And so they wait, in a darkened room, with nothing but their own thoughts and the occasional muffled sounds of their fellow captives to keep them company. They wait, grow hungry, grow thirsty, and continue waiting.
Finally, towards the end of the second day, someone turns on a light.
The light is painful at first, but as they gradually adjust they see they are in a very empty, unfurnished room. Unfurnished, but fancy—the walls and floor are granite, and the ceiling is covered in baroque plaster tiles. At the very end of this empty room is a simple door, so plain it looks almost shabby by comparison.
It is another hour before the door finally opens. When the man walks in, the three recognize him immediately.
“I apologize for the delay,” the Chairman says. He crosses the room slowly, deliberately.