"Or one of the prisoners wasn't as helpless as they appeared." I run my hand along the edge of a cell door, deliberately avoiding his gaze while mentally calculating how long it would take twenty escaped prisoners in various conditions to get out of this basement. "Some magickal beings can pass as human until they need to... not be."
Footsteps echo down the corridor before he can respond. A welcome interruption. I exhale silently in relief. Ghost appears with Bravo Team, our extra backup on this mission. Their leader, a tall woman with a tight blonde braid—Agent Swift—gives me a respectful nod.
"Mathieson?"
"Guards down, prisoners gone," I report. "We're still searching for how they got out."
Ghost whistles softly as he surveys the scene. "Twenty prisoners don't just vanish."
"Unless they had help," Sherlock repeats my theory, but his eyes linger on me a fraction too long.
The calculation in his gaze makes my skin prickle. He's piecing something together. I need to redirect before he connects too many dots. Time for Agent Mathieson to take charge, just as I would in any mission.
"Spread out," I order, gesturing to the agents with the practiced efficiency that's kept me alive and undetected for years. "There has to be an exit somewhere. Check for hidden doors, maintenance access, anything that could serve as an escape route."
As the team disperses, I move toward the far corner of the detention area, where the shadows seem deepest. A strange feeling pulls me in that direction. Intuition or something else, I'm not sure. The concrete wall appears solid, unremarkable, but when I run my fingers along its surface, I detect the faintest seam.
I can’t play this out much longer and still be believed. Please be gone Fen. Please be fucking gone.
"Over here," I call, pressing against various points on the wall. "I think I found something."
Sherlock is at my side instantly, running a specialized light along the seam. The beam catches on a small depression that might be a hidden switch. He presses it, and a section of wall slides open with a pneumatic hiss.
A knot forms in the back of my throat.
"A back door," Ghost says, appearing behind us with his weapon drawn. "Clever."
Beyond the hidden exit lies a narrow tunnel, dimly lit by emergency lights embedded in the ceiling. It’s a stairway to the surface.
"Swift," I call to the tactical leader. "Secure the detention area. Ghost, with me and Sherlock."
The three of us move into the stairway, weapons ready. We climb to the top and Sherlock pushes the door open. We emerge into the stillness of the night.
I can’t swallow.
I can’t breathe.
A high concrete wall surrounds the compound, but a service gate stands partially open in the fence line about twenty yards away.
There’s no one in sight and the knot in my throat drops. They made it out.
"There's your escape route," Ghost says, pointing to the gate.
Sherlock immediately moves to examine the ground around the exit. "Footprints. Lots of them." He kneels, studying the soil. "Different sizes. Some barefoot."
My anxiety spikes as I scan the area beyond the gate. A narrow dirt road leads away from the complex, disappearing into dense woods. If Fen and the others left any obvious trail...
"They can't have gotten far on foot," Ghost says, squinting at the tree line. "No vehicle tracks near the gate."
I follow Sherlock's gaze to a large metal trough about thirty feet from the exit—the kind used for watering livestock. Water gleams in the moonlight, its surface like glass.
My chest tightens as I realize what I'm seeing. The damn trough was the escape route. "Strange place for a watering trough," I say casually, moving toward it. "No animals in sight."
Sherlock follows. "No tracks lead through the open gate."
"But plenty around the trough," Ghost points out, circling the metal container. "Almost like they gathered here.”
Sherlock shakes his head slowly. "Something's not right." His gaze meets mine. That penetrating stare that peels away layers. I've seen that look before, right before he unravels a lie. "Twenty prisoners don't just vanish into thin air."
