CHAPTER TWELVE: PRISON WING

Alex left the elevator; his eyes still wide open. The sleek metal complex had disappeared and what was left in the basement was a dank, dirty facility. Alex took his first breath in what seemed like hours and he could taste the blood and tears here.

Alex looked around and noticed the cells, and the guards circling the area. Carrying their AK's in hand ready for anything. He took a deep breath and stepped out. The floors were wet with some oily substance and the stench of sweat and blood, set the tone of this place. The walls were stern brick; they too were covered with this substance. Alex took a step, it echoed slowly through the halls. It was completely silent. Alex moved on. He peeked around the corner, no guard. Alex stepped out.

Cages. Cells like a prison. Alex no longer wondered what this part of the facility was for. Of course Alex knew that he was the only one who got the luxury of the enemies throne. He continued on looking through the rusted steel cells. Beds with used, dirty woolen covers. An unflushable toilet. In cell number one was a man, his ragged clothes were ripped and dirty. He stood up, with the little strength he had he crept toward the door, holding onto the bars when he arrived.

"Who are you?" He said in his rough raspy voice. His hair was long and all over, he had no one to make it for. "I'm with, MI6."

"MI6 is using kids now, things have changed since I've been gone haven't they." He said blinking a few times.

"You were with MI6?" Alex asked lowering his gun, a little.

"Almost all the men in these cells were, except the few who were with the CIA."

"And what happened here."

"Well if you look on any report we disappeared. But Kascef, you know. Now listen, can you get us out of here?"

Alex nodded and pulled out his toothpaste and brush and used a small amount on his lock. He then moved on to the next one and the next until everyone in the block was done. Alex looked around the corner, the guard was coming. Alex pressed the brush and the doors blew open. The guard was immediately running towards Alex. By this time all the men had limped out and stood in the hallway. The guard rounded the corner and pointed the gun. The man in cell one walked toward the guard.

"In the middle of the desert, in a dank dirty basement with temperatures around, I say 90 degrees. That gun..." the guard pulled the trigger and watched as nothing came out.

"That gun would jam." He said finishing his sentence. He punched the guard, who proceeded to fall to the floor unconscious.

"There's a truck outside, if you see a CIA agent and a girl take them with you. If you don't, go on alone. By the way who are you?"

"Ryan VanGordon, and thank you Alex for all you've done."

All the men walked toward the elevator. They did Alex the service of getting rid of the last guard in the area. Maybe Alex had hoped that the man would say his last name was Rider. But he knew he was hoping too much. He had taken the picture of VanGordon with the contact camera, it was transmitted to MI6 and hopefully they'd piece together the facts. Kascef had kidnapped VanGordon and they would send a lot of back up. And send it very quick.

Alex thought about VanGordons last few words. 'Thank you Alex.' It was so blatant that Alex hadn't noticed it. Alex never gave his name, how did he know it. Alex ran for the elevator and stooped in front of it. He was too late; the door was only a few inches form closing. Van Gordon waved. "Good luck."

Alex was sure that he was with MI6. Alex ran for the stairs and jumped two steps at a time. His legs were feeling better. The décor of the second floor was totally different from the basement. This sector was clean and silver. Sleek and metal. Why did every person choose that?

Alex walked down the hall and looked through the doors as he passed. Empty with nothing but a table and chair. Where had everyone gone? Was there anyone at all? Alex came to the room at the end of the hall, CONTROL ROOM. He entered and looked at the halls, filled with computer screens and desks with tables. Alex looked at the screens.

Washington DC, London, New York, Moscow. All were construction sites under the name Kasckef Industries. Alex took out his pen and looked at the ring still securely on his finger. He moved the pen around all the computers and all of the equipment and looked at the ring. He looked; about to twist it and activate the laser beam when the door flung open, and there was Kascef surrounded by guards. And the last to enter the room, surrounded by guards were Sabina and Titan.

"Why is it," Kascef spoke, "that you refuse to die?"

Alex looked at him blankly, than he looked at Sabina and Titan. They were unharmed. He guessed that VanGordon was gone. He again looked at Kascef and said nothing. Kascef was smiling.

"But I intend to tell you my plan now that you're here. But I might as well inflict a small amount of pain to you. Drop your weapon or I'll shoot you girlfriend." He pointed his gun toward her. Alex had no choice; he threw down the AK and the handgun. Kascef still pointed the gun.

"Thank you. But it seems we have no need for Mr. Titan here." Kascef squeezed the trigger and the bullet few out like a missile surrounded by flame and smoke. Titan fell backward and lie there blood spilling and a massing into a pool near him. Alex looked in horror, then at Kascef that devious smile growing on his face.

"Now lets get down to business."