17th October, 8am. Prison cell.

*Peter scowls as two DEFRA lackeys remove his bed and replace it with a hospital gurney, stomach still aching from the purging potion he'd been advised to take the night before (the DEFRA official's comment of 'You'll regret not taking it once you're strapped in." had not made the potion any more palatable, nor its effects less unpleasant).  His scowl only deepens as he notices the straps- heavy and made of the same stuff as the collar, that hang from various points of the thick iron frame and a board on one side that looks like it functions as a very spartan arm rest.  He's been given some loose cotton clothing to wear- his own possessions have been tidied out the door along with the bed.  Peter did protest the books but was brusquely informed that he'd not be in any state to read them.  The only thing left, apart from a cleared desk is the TV.

A side glance out the door shows two IV stands, several boxes containing tubing, needles bags both empty and full of various fluids, a neat stack of blankets and one very nervous nurse in the corridor outside his cell.  The nurse seems to be sticking some sort of clipboard to his door and trying to explain something to Lindsay, who just looks baffled.  Meanwhile, all the carpet in the room except for a small strip under the desk has been cut and rolled away.  The stone below has been sterilised and bolts put in to hold the gurney in place.  Peter supposes that stone is easier to wipe clean of any fluids than carpet and the thought makes him feel slightly sick.*