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Seven, three, five, seven, four, nine.

Turning his head, Devon looked at the mirror across the hall. The basement was dark, but the keys on the keypad were lit up. It was too far to see the numbers, but he didn’t need to. He would simply move the pencil across the face of the keypad until the tip darkened the key he wanted to press.

It seemed like an easy task, but all it took was one mistake to ruin the entry. He might be able to try a second time, but he also knew that an incorrect entry might trigger an alarm. The key was to take it slow and easy. Mistakes weren’t an option.

He practiced a half dozen times, touching each key with the eraser while making sure he didn’t actually press down. He wanted to be familiar with the movements before making the attempt.

Once he was comfortable with the process, Devon began entering the code, listening for the soft beep that sounded each time a key was pressed. After entering the last digit, he waited. Seconds later, there was a loud click as the lock disengaged.

Devon let his head rest against the wall for several seconds. He had done it. He could leave the cell. But there wasn’t time to celebrate. For all he knew, the lock might reset if he didn’t open the door quickly. Pulling his hand back, he slid the door open. The first step was officially complete.

He stepped out of the cell, closed the door behind him, and crept down the hall. He guessed there were cameras affixed to the ceiling, but he doubted they could pick up much in the darkness. Even if they could, he still had a good chance of getting away undetected. If someone was assigned to watch the cameras, they probably glanced at the screens only every few minutes. No security officer could keep eyes on the screens at all times. That was just human nature.

At the end of the hall, Devon arrived at the doors to the elevator. He was about to press the button when he saw another door on the right. Was it another way out? Opening it, he saw a dark stairwell beyond. That was a much better option. On an elevator, there was no way to tell who might be waiting when the doors opened. Conversely, he would hear people coming down steps.

After entering the stairwell, Devon began his ascent. There was a metal door at the second landing, which Devon surmised opened onto the ground floor. He opened it just enough to peek out. What he saw surprised him. Unlike the upper floors, where the interrogations took place, this one looked ornate, like the interior of a museum or castle. The floor was polished marble, and overhead was an intricate timbered ceiling. There were alcoves with statues at regular intervals along the corridor.

Devon leaned all the way out and looked to the right. A door at the end of the hall looked as though it might be an exit. There would probably be cameras along the way, but he couldn’t let that stop him. If he wanted to get away, he would have to expose himself at some point. There was no way around it. He hoped the building was in an urban area, which would make it easier for him to disappear.

Leaving the stairwell, Devon ran toward the door at the end of the hall. About halfway there, he heard voices coming toward him. No one was visible in the corridor, so he assumed they must be approaching from a crossing hallway on the right. The voices were loud, which meant the speakers might appear at any moment. Given no other choice, Devon ducked into an alcove and crouched behind the statue of a naked man with a crown of leaves.

Seconds later, he heard the scuff of hard shoes on the marble floor. The men had entered the main corridor and were moving in his direction. They were speaking a language Devon didn’t recognize. When they passed his hiding place, Devon stole a quick glance. There were two men, and both wore crisp white lab coats. The nearer man held a clipboard and appeared to be reading something written on the top page. Shortly after they passed, a door opened and closed, then the hall fell silent. They had entered the stairwell.

Devon wondered if they were going to check on him. He doubted it. He had never seen either of them before. And if they were going to check on him, that was all the more reason to get out as quickly as possible.

After slipping out from behind the statue, he sprinted the remaining distance and opened the exit door. It wasn’t locked. He stepped outside and found himself on a covered stone walkway that led to another building. The sun had long disappeared, which meant he was wrong about the time. He had been told that dinner was served at six o’clock every night, but he realized the whole thing had been a disinformation campaign.

Devon looked in both directions. On his right was a courtyard filled with manicured bushes and a multilevel fountain in the center. That was obviously not the way to go. To the left was a well-manicured lawn. Moving quietly, Devon stepped out onto the grass. A shiny moon hung high over the horizon, illuminating a dark forest about fifty yards away. As he looked beyond the trees, Devon realized he was in a mountainous region. He could see a sprinkling of lights on a distant slope, but that was the only sign of civilization. He felt a wave of disappointment shake his body. His whole plan was predicated on making a quick exit and blending in with the surrounding population, at which point he would seek law enforcement. Neither of those things was possible here.

But that wasn’t the only problem. It was also much cooler than he had expected. He guessed the temperature was in the low fifties or upper forties. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but being dressed in a robe and no shoes made it feel about twenty degrees colder.

After making sure no one was out and about, Devon dashed across the lawn. He stopped at the edge of the forest to let his eyes adjust. To his right was a trail. He didn’t know where it led, but he needed to get as far away as possible.

He took the trail into the woods. The boulder-strewn path led down the slope for several hundred yards before finally leveling off. The woods were more open here, allowing the moonlight to reach the trail. Once it was easier to see, Devon began to jog. His feet were killing him, but he pushed himself to keep going. If it meant getting away, he would be fine even if his feet were cut to ribbons.

Twenty minutes later, he came to a stop. His muscles couldn’t take any more. He would rest for five minutes then continue on. Turning off the path, he sat on a boulder and sucked in deep breaths.

A minute before, Devon had thought he’d heard a distant vehicle. Perhaps there was a highway close by. If so, he would stand in the road and flag someone down. In the modern world, law enforcement was only a cell phone call away.

As he sat in silence, Devon heard a rustle behind him. It’s probably an animal. A squirrel or a deer.

Seconds later, there was another rustle, this one closer.

As Devon started to turn, a hand clamped over his mouth, and a sharp object was pressed into his back.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DEVON TRIED TO twist free of his attacker, but each time he moved, the sharp object pressed more sharply against his spine.

When he finally relaxed, a man spoke into his ear. “Don’t make a sound.”

Devon nodded that he understood. The last thing he wanted to do was irritate the person who could paralyze him with one swift jab.

Slowly, the man pulled Devon back into the trees. As he did, Devon began to wonder who he was. He couldn’t be one of the guards. For one thing, a guard wouldn’t use a knife. It would also have been impossible for a guard to get ahead of Devon. He doubted they had even discovered the empty cell yet.