He sighed heavily. “Fine.” Reluctantly, he rose again, hesitating like he wanted to say more, but whatever it was, he kept it to himself. He went to the door, opened it, and headed back to his seat without another word.
McElroy stuck his head in. “Are we a go?”
Alex nodded. “Let’s continue.”
Once everyone was back in place, McElroy pointed at the satellite image of Slavne Prison.
“As you so astutely pointed out,” he said, “the facility houses only female prisoners. What I was going to tell you before the interruption was that it’s a low-security facility that’s used both for women convicted of nonviolent crime and women awaiting trial.”
Deuce gestured to the image. “You call that low security?”
“I know it looks intimidating, but it’s been there since well before World War Two. At that time, yes, it was intended for higher-risk inmates, but over the years they’ve built better, more modern facilities for those purposes.”
“I’m sure it’s just like Club Med,” Deuce said.
McElroy frowned at him. “May I go on?”
Deuce didn’t object.
“Slavne Prison is designed to hold just under fifteen hundred inmates, all housed in one of these three buildings.” With a laser pointer, he circled the three identical buildings within the big wall. “The amount of prisoners changes daily depending on trials. Sometimes they’re actually overcrowded, but currently they’re running at about eighty-seven percent of capacity.” He moved the light to the perpendicular building below them. “This is the administration building. It’s also where the infirmary is. Here and here”—the light touched on two points along the edge of the admin building—“are the only two intended ways in and out of the facility.”
“Are there any unintended?” Alex asked.
Ignoring the comment, McElroy touched on the two buildings outside the wall. “These are housing facilities for guards and other staff.” He moved the pointer to the building with its own wall on the other side of the prison. “And this is isolation, where they keep problem prisoners.”
“And where, exactly, is El-Hashim?”
He pointed at the middle of the three parallel buildings. “Here, on the second floor.” He glanced at his assistant. “Barbara? Schematics.”
The map shrank down until it was the size of one of the smaller rectangles, then moved to an empty slot along the bottom. Replacing it in the larger screen was an architectural drawing of one of the prison buildings.
“Push in on the cell,” McElroy ordered.
The whole image swung to the side, revealing it as a three-dimensional file, then traveled through the outside wall into the main corridor that ran through the center of the second floor. There, it pivoted, showing one of the doors.
“The cells have a three-digit numbering system. The first number indicates building, the final two the actual cell. This is cell number 259. El-Hashim seldom leaves it.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Deuce asked.
“We have someone on the inside. An informant.”
“And does this informant keep a constant eye on—”
“Can we get to the meat here?” Alex said, cutting Deuce off. “The bottom line is that I’m supposed to go in, right?”
“Yes.”
“As what? A visitor?”
“Prisoner.”
Alex had known what he was going to say, but hearing it didn’t make it sound any less crazy.
“See?” Deuce said. “I told you.”
But Alex’s attention was still on McElroy. “Okay, so that’s how I get in. Now how do I get out?”
“Our informer.”
“Who is?”
“Code name Traz,” McElroy said. “Someone very well placed.”
“So why doesn’t he or she deal with El-Hashim?”
McElroy shook his head. “We’re not talking about an operative, and it isn’t someone who has El-Hashim’s ear. The contact is extremely concerned about being found out by prison officials.”
“Then why cooperate at all?”
“We have something Traz wants.”
“Which is?”
“I’m afraid that’s classified,” McElroy said. “All that matters is that this contact is our eyes and ears. And once you’re inside and you’ve convinced El-Hashim to leave, Traz will facilitate the escape.”
“Why all the mystery?” Deuce asked. “Who is this person?”
McElroy shook his head. “One of the conditions Traz insisted on was that his or her identity remain a secret in case something goes wrong before Alex gets to the facility. Once she’s inside, Traz will reach out.”
“So, in other words,” Deuce said, “Alex goes in completely blind.” He looked at Alex. “You get that, right?”
“I get it. But if I were in this Traz’s position, I’d ask for exactly the same guarantee. You would, too.”
She sensed Deuce’s resistance, but he kept his mouth shut. What could he say? He knew she was right.
A small smile of satisfaction creased McElroy’s face, but Alex moved quickly to kill it. “Just because I can understand the reasoning doesn’t mean I don’t need some safety assurances of my own.”
“Of course. You’re wondering if any of our intel is trustworthy.”
“Gee, it’s like you’re reading my mind.”
McElroy turned. “Cooper, can you tell Ms. Fazakas to join us?”
Cooper got up and exited the room. Moments later he returned with a dark-haired woman who was a good four inches shorter than Alex and looked Eastern European, maybe in her late thirties to mid-forties.
“Ms. Poe,” McElroy said. “This is Ms. Fazakas. Ms. Fazakas, Alexandra Poe.”
The woman nodded hello, then reluctantly took Alex’s offered hand and shook.
“Ms. Fazakas spent the better part of two years in Slavne Prison. After we’re through here, she’ll give you a thorough briefing, but suffice it to say the contact at the prison is known to her, and was the one who helped Ms. Fazakas get out.”
Alex eyed the woman. She realized now that Fazakas was probably younger than she looked. Whether it was the time in prison or life before that, something had taken its toll on her. She looked worn, tired, and, if Alex was right, a little fearful.
Alex eyed her. “You think this Traz can do it again with me?”
“Escaping a prison isn’t an easy thing,” Fazakas said. “But if Traz says it is possible again, then I assume yes.”
“So how did you get out?”
The woman hesitated. “The prison has high walls and several guards, but security is lax at times. I was able to get out in a hidden compartment on a delivery truck. I doubt you will be going the same way, though.”
“Why not?”
“The compartment was barely large enough for me. As I understand it, there will be two of you.”
Alex looked at McElroy. “Do you know how we’re getting out?”
He hesitated. “Ms. Poe, as I mentioned before, Traz is very concerned about something going wrong, and has insisted the information not be shared with anyone on the actual mission, and I have to agree. If you are caught, it will be better if you have no knowledge of the escape route. That way, if we need to send someone in to rescue you, it will still be open to us.”
“That is bullshit,” Deuce said. “You expect Alex to walk into that prison and not know exactly how she’s getting out?”
McElroy ignored him and looked directly at Alex. “I’m asking for your trust. Everything is in place for when you will need it. And unlike when Ms. Fazakas escaped, you will have help on the outside.” He motioned at Cooper and Deuce.
Deuce opened his mouth to say something again, but Alex put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. She understood compartmentalizing information. She’d been in the army, after all. And as much as she might have liked to have a clearer picture, she couldn’t disagree with McElroy’s logic.