Kingsman: The Secret Service - Manners Maketh Man

Chapter 1

Hey everyone! Here's the first chapter, hope you enjoy it!

Argentina – 17 years later

In a luxurious condo looking over to the snow-coated mountains in Argentina, there were five people in a room with a man dressed in a suit bound to a chair in the middle with a black bag over his head.

One of the men sitting in front of the bound man pulled the bag off from his head and slowly started to rip off the duct tape from his mouth.

"So sorry Professor Arnold. Just a little bit more." The bound man rolled his eyes and flinched a little bit because of the way the tape pulled on his mustache.

"For God's sake, just rip it off!" His voice came out muffled due to the tape. The man slowly but surely ripped the tape off.

"I'm under very strict instructions not to hurt you." The man was bald with a mustache and beard. He was completely dressed in black. The guys in the room were all the same; all bald, dressed in black, some of them had mustaches and bears, some of them didn't.

The bound guy, Professor Arnold, on the other hand was blonde, with blue eyes, looked to be no more than 60, and also had a moustache and beard. He was also dressed in a very posh way.

"Look, you've made a mistake. I'm a university lecturer. I've got no money." Professor Arnold snarled.

"This isn't about money. Our boss just wants to talk to you." The bald man said. Professor Arnold looked at the guy.

"Am I meant to find that reassuring?" He asked sarcastically.

"He'll be here soon. He'll explain." The man said. Arnold's head went down in exasperation.

"Do you like whiskey? Red, get the '62 Dalmore." Arnold hmm-ed with a shocked look on his face; possibly because of the men's good taste in whiskey. One of the men nodded and put his magazine down before disappearing off somewhere in the house.

"Honestly, this whiskey, it's amazing. You will shit." Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. The men got into their fighting stances, pulling their guns out. The door opened to reveal a man with brown hair and eyes, dressed in a light brown pinstriped suit and a green tie. This was James Spencer, the new Lancelot.

"I suppose asking to borrow a cup of sugar is a step too far?" He said kindly. But just as the man took his gun out, James grabbed a hold of it before shooting the man with his own gun. He then quickly took the other men out before changing the double column of his gun with a filled one.

"Professor Arnold. I'm here to take you home." He said. He then quickly approached the corner adjacent to the kitchen where the man bringing the whiskey would eventually escape from. He did, with a glass of whiskey on a tray and James shot the guy once in the face before taking the glass from the tray and sniffing it.

"1962 Dalmore. It'd be a sin to spill any, don't you think?" With that he took a sip from it. And just then, there was another knock on the door. As James went up to it with his gun ready, there was a swift movement from behind him and a hand reached out to take the glass of whiskey from him. James just stood in place for a couple of seconds before his body fell apart symmetrically. As James fell in two different directions, the culprit was revealed. A tanned woman with black hair, dressed completely in black with prosthetic blades as legs.

Placing the glass on a table next to one of the couches, the woman ran up the stairs, eventually coming back with six towels at hand. She approached Professor Arnold who was still bound to the chair with a look of shock on his face.

"Can you hold these? Please?" she asked. Arnold held up his restrained hands and the woman cut off his bounds with one swift movement of her leg. He held onto the towels and watched as she covered every single body up, including the slashed-in-two James Spencer. He tossed her the last towel and she responded with a "Thank you" before putting it over the second piece of James' body.