However as you emerged from the basement in a seedy London backstreet, your head pounding with pain you instinctively knew that the bad guys had made off with the secret documents, and what's more they had taken your Ferrari F40 as well.

You contact control... bad move as he puts the phone down. You have this feeling that your own guys are going to be after you.

You have only one choice, retrieve the documents and deliver them as planned, which should clear you with the department. Fortunately you still have the tracking device homed in to the briefcase, but the signal is growing faint.

As you walk round the corner, your spirits rise as you see a motorbike standing outside a cafe...