Chapter 18 - The Fortress of Rust
An hour later, Jax and Marcus stood beneath the towering concrete walls of the abandoned state penitentiary.
The razor wire along the perimeter fence rustled in the wet night wind.
Searchlights from construction cranes swept across the overgrown prison yard.
Demolition crews were already preparing the site for tomorrow's destruction.
"We have two hours before the demolition team sets off the primary charges," Marcus whispered.
They crouched behind an overturned supply truck in the outer courtyard.
"Where is Cell 09?" Jax asked, checking his revolver's cylinder.
"In the subterranean solitary wing," Marcus replied. "Three levels below the main block."
"The wing they flooded thirty years ago?" Jax asked in shock.
"It's not flooded anymore," Marcus said, pulling pair of night-vision goggles over his face.
"They drained it last week to clear out the evidence."
Suddenly, the beam of a high-powered spotlight stopped directly over their truck.
A loudspeaker blared across the courtyard, its voice echoing off the concrete walls.
"We've been expecting you, Marcus," a deep, aristocratic voice announced over the speakers.
Jax looked up toward the control tower.
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Standing behind the bulletproof glass was a tall, distinguished man in a expensive suit.
Beside him stood Thomas, his arm in a sling, bloody but very much alive.
