Montparnasse's jaw worked in aggravation, expression dark as he glared at the short chain of the handcuffs separating him from the person next to him. All he could think was that he had been drugged, the both of them apparently. It was dark outside the parking garage he was sitting in, where he was propped against the concrete wall behind a line of cars. The last time he had looked outside it had been barely noon, and he had no memory of what had occurred between then and now. All he knew was that he was sitting in a parking garage, god knows where, and he's literally chained to a complete stranger. He lets his head fall against the wall behind him, groaning in frustration. His cell phone was gone, his wallet and his weapons with it, and up until now the person beside him had been unresponsive to his attempts to wake them up. In essence, he was stranded without any form of communication with a comatose stranger sitting on the ground beside him.