Crumbling Down

Chapter 17

Kert

With a knife in hand, wielded with me wearing a formal jacket with black jeans.

"In here," Robert gestured a large pocket inside the jacket and secured the weaponry there. Materials and bags, check.

"Remember the plan. We inspect, stay hidden and dash out. Got it?", Robert asked. I nodded and the group gave us their condolences.

"No mistakes now. We only got one shot at this. You got it kiddo", Nan had warned us sternly, but always cared like a mother. Mother. I nearly forgot about her, but it's not the time. Natasha's life is in our hands.

---

As we settled in Nan's van, it turned to ignition and raced along the streets. Robert took the wheel, to him, it looked easy. The moon glinted the clouds, as well as the stars.

"Have you drove this before?", I asked. He nodded.

"You'd be surprised how I fast I got back," he laughed.

The drive was about an hour, the hills descended up, the prison as a massive view. Dark stone walls held high as we parked along the edge. The yard was ghostly-quiet but somehow serene.

"No one guards here?". Robert shook his head, and with magic, my skin changed from brown to pristine porcelain. Robert was unrecognizable.  

"We look as indifferent we can be, and in an hour we bounce. Caprende?", he opened the door and we headed to the steel gates.

---

It was grander than the outside. It was blindly white and the metal door was breached. 'ENTERING WITHOUT PERMISSION WILL LEAD TO PERSECUTION', it red. Next to it, was a young receptionist at the marble desk.

"May I help you?", the receptionist replied, his face bored. Robert turned to him, his broad nature with wire-framed glasses, neatly put hair spoke with defiance.

"This facility has an inspection. I'm sure you can put us down", Robert spoke.

"Sir, no recent inspection is coming up," the receptionist replied.

"I'm sorry, are you the warden? You're overstepping boundaries. I'll speak with your boss if you're giving us more problems", Robert sterned his voice.

"I-It's no-not needed sir," he stammered as he punched us in the computer.

"How long is your duration?", he added.

"Three."

"Names?".

"Sheldon Gray," Robert said.

"Herbert Estaban," I said.

"Identifications please", his hand hovered over the desk. Robert patted his pockets, his eyes searching.

"What's your name?", Robert asked.

"Stephen. Identifications please".

"Stephen... I worked with this facility for years. I don't need to be checked by the likes of you", Robert snarled.

"S-Sir, this i-is protocol," Stephen hardly formed his words.

"I don't follow your idea of the protocol. Your warden must know of this absurd interaction".

"I-I w-will to ask y-you to leave," Stephen was holding something underneath the desk.

"Speak with the warden," Robert said.

"Sir--."

"Now." With hesitation, Stephen turned on the telepathic radio.

"We got visitors."

"So?", a raspy voice returned from the line.

"They're giving me problems."

"Problems? Can't you handle them yourself?", and just like that, the radio was off.

The door boomed, and Stephen opened it with his card. The warden had rolls of tummy hanging, along with a greying beard.

"This? Let 'em in".

"Sir, their identifications--." 

"LET 'EM IN--," he stopped and with more examination.

"Who are ya?".

"Sheldon and my assistant Herbert".

"I don't know ya--."

"Your memory is acting up. It's us", Robert said. The warden thoughted for a moment, then his face brightened up.

"My bad Shelly." Peculiar.

"Sorry for the trouble fellas, Stephen can be useless here," he added, and we were inside the prison.

The walls were still white; the corridors branched out.

"Everything is in order," the warden spoke.

"Doesn't mean its accurate," Robert contradicted.

"Fiesty", he responded and patted Robert on the shoulder. We headed to another breached door with the same warning that follows.

"We may split ways now," Robert said.

"Hold on. I'm required to go, I want my place in tip-top shape", he narrowed his eyes. Robert gritted his teeth but didn't rebuke. We knew better than to cause more problems. 

The cells marked the walls from the ground up. Yelling and screams filled the room.

"Crazy like always", the warden laughed. We've walked around the cells containing little people to deranged beings. Blood and a stinker odor founded into our noses. But what made me gagged more was the cell I found.