1/ A man in a tuxedo is strapped to a metal table in the center of a less-than-sterile operating theater. In silhouette above him is a menacing figure.
(Figure): You expect me to monologue. To reveal my plan.
2/ A hand at a console, fingers wrapped around a solid lever just waiting to be pulled.
(Figure): I'd say I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm not.
3/ Above the captured man on the table, surely a spy of some kind, an elaborate device that couldn't possibly be anything but a sophisticated laser begins to heat up.
(Tuxedo): If you're going to try and kill me, get on with it. But first...
4/ There is fear in the captured man's eyes now. Eyes that usually betray nothing.
(Tuxedo): Your name. I'd like to visit your widow after I escape.
5/ A corner of the figure's lip ticks upwards.
6/ He steps into the light. The spitting image of the man on the table.
(Figure): Rend. Jackson Rend.