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 James was in a bit of a bind. It had seemed a good plan. Play the part of a playboy and go t o Rio to find out who was behind a secret network of secret technology smugglers. All a typical day for the best secret agent that Canada’s Secret Service had to offer.
So why was James now trussed up expertly with rope in the dingy basement of the Casino he was ot meet his first contact? Somehow his cover had been blown before he even had much of a chance to use it.
“Look, I am sure there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. If you allow to talk to my people...”, James captors were no mood as a rough looking man, part of the Cuban military from the looks of him, slapped James across the face before he could finish his sentence.
  “We know who you are, Mr. James Bind. You are only alive for now because it suits us.”, the nasty looking Cuban sneered and then turned to his comrades, “Shut him up.”
James couldn’t even protest as tape was slapped over his mouth and wrapped tightly around his head. Soon James as gagged as tightly as he was bound up. He was then shoved roughly into a rickety chair.
James was now their prisoner but he wasn't’ totally helpless. Unknown to his captors, his sun glasses held a micro recorder. At least when he managed to get out of this he could go back and analyse everything that had happened here.
  One of the thugs grabbed some more rope and roughly jerked James foot back. Then using the rope he bound it to the chair. The thug seemed to take delight in forcing James leg to bend backwards until it hurt and feeling up every part of his bound body.
James grunted for effect as he was man handled. But in actuality he was trying to focus his glasses in the direction of the ring leader as he talked on the phone. While he couldn't’ make out what the man was saying, James knew that the audio his micro recorder was picking up could be amplified and translated.

James grimaced as his other leg was bent backwards at an angle it was never intended to go. These men were =sadistic and James had no intention of being their prisoner any longer then he had to. He hadn’t planned on being captured so quickly. But he was certain his training as an escape artist would get him out of this. He only needed an opening.
  He soon had it. The ring leader and his men, confident that their prisoner was properly restrained and silenced, left the room. James immediately went to work on his bonds. His captors were good, that was for sure. The knots were all placed well away from where his hands could reach. And the bindings were tight, designed to get even tighter if he struggled too much. Any obvious means of getting loose had been accounted for. A lesser man would have been helpless. Undoubtedly these goons had had lots of practice tying up lots of such men. But James wasn't’ so easily deterred. He found just a bit of slack. It was tiny but if he could turn his wrists just a bit and twist his chest, he could increase the slack enough to get free.
James immediately ceased his struggles when he heard the ring leader come back in. The Cuban stared at James and then took his glasses.
  “Mi Amigo likes your glasses, senor.”, and then the Cuban left.
That was too odd, James thought. They didn't’ know about his secret micro recorder, did they? James’ heart began to race. better ot get free and deal with this later. James had the un nerving feeling that his cover had been blown so fast because there was a double agent in the agency!
James continued his struggles. It took several moments and James knew that at any moment he could be discovered. If so, his one chance at freedom would have been gone.
  Suddenly his right hand came free from the rope! Now al he ha dot do was loosen a few knots
Unfortunately at that very moment the Cuban came back in. Before James had any chance ot defend himself, the Cuban latched hs arm around his prisoner’s neck and squeezed. James felt himself blacking out.