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Nova and Altair went home to change and shower first. The trial was a public event, and they would be expected to look presentable.
They arrived at the prison early. Nova kept her eyes open, looking for rebels and anything that looked unusual, while Altair dealt with guards and Mudden military.
The trial was going to be held in the same room as the execution. They’d set up tables and chairs where the prosecutor and the judge would sit. They were mainly putting on a show to avoid the controversy of what had happened with Brent. No one had any doubt what the results of the trial would be.
Altair took Nova through a side door.
“There was nowhere in that room for him to hide explosives,” Altair said. “We have to figure out where he would have hidden them.”
“For the best results, you would ideally put the explosives under the area that you want to blow up.”
“In the basement?”
Nova shrugged. She wasn’t even sure they were right about Mak. At this point, it was all guess work.
“The basement is where the prison cells are. The area is guarded.”
“What’s directly under the trial room?”
Altair stopped walking to think.
“I think that area has been empty for a while. The prison has more cells than are needed. I think the area has been closed off.”
“Why is the prison this big?”
“It used to house criminals. Now, the only prisoners who come here are rebels. All other criminals are forced to work in the mines.”
Everyone on Mudden had to be making money for the Dougal family.
“Should we go check?”
Altair nodded. He started walking in the opposite direction of the stairs.
She didn’t say anything, not wanting him to know about her familiarity with the prison.
He stopped in front of a locked room. He reached into his pocket and pulled a ring of keys out.
He opened the door to a closet with guard uniforms and laser pistols inside.
Altair grabbed a pistol. “Have you ever shot one?” he asked Nova.
She nodded. He handed her the weapon and grabbed one for himself, holstering it in the waist of his pants and hiding the handle with his shirt. “Better to be prepared for the worse.”
Nova had nowhere to hide her weapon. Her dress had no pockets and a tight bodice, so she held it in her right hand keeping it pointed down at the floor.
They made their way back down the hallway, the way they’d come from, finding the stairs to the basement.
A guard stood at the bottom of the stairs.
“No one is allowed down there,” the guard said.
“I need to see a prisoner,” Altair said.
The guard looked at Nova suspiciously. She hid her hand and the pistol into the skirts of her dress.
“Sorry,” he said. “No exceptions.”
