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something she could do herself.

A few seconds later, she heard the door to E4 ping softly three times and then the lock popped open. She steeled herself for the inevitable stink of a confined space and what was likely an unwashed and soiled body, but nothing came. If anything, it smelled sterile.

She crouched down and pulled the door further open to peer inside.

The cage-like cell looked even smaller inside, measuring some two metres in length but no more than seventy centimetres in width and even less in height.

‘Sergeant Kaal?’ She brought up a flashlight taken off the dead security guard, but the inside of the tiny cell was lit almost as well as the corridor, and she decided not to blind the man unnecessarily.

Brown eyes blinked at her. They looked confused, but fear and resignation weren’t far from the surface.

‘Are you Sergeant Kaal?’ she repeated. It had been over twenty years since she had seen her squadron leader. Not only was the man in front of her older, but his facial hair resembled a caveman’s, contrasting with the image of a clean-shaven soldier she had in her mind.

‘Yes,’ the man replied. ‘Kaal.’

‘Don’t tell him you’re Ortega!’ Gonzalez’s sudden outburst made her flinch. She nearly slapped herself on the forehead, because introducing herself as Molina Ortega was exactly what she had been about to do.

‘Can you walk?’ she asked instead. ‘Can you get out of the cage?’

The man stared at her, even more confused, blinking a few times in rapid succession. And then he howled as silver-white sparks filled his miniature cell. His body arched.

‘Switch it off!’ Ingram barked, and without waiting for a reply reached into the cell. Her thick, rubber-soled boots broke the circuit, and she pulled Kaal out with one heave, his body sliding along the smooth floor.

‘It’s off,’ Eloise replied barely a second later.

‘What the hell was that?’ Ingram asked, turning Kaal onto his back.

‘Not sure… security feature…’ Eloise’s voice was ragged, the words separated by heavy pants as if she had just finished a long, punishing run. She sounded more and more faint with each minute.

‘Is it on in all the other cells? Switch the damn thing off!’

‘We’re already on it,’ Gonzalez replied for Eloise. ‘How’s Kaal?’

‘Sergeant Kaal?’

The man opened his eyes and took a deep breath, wincing as his body spasmed in protest. There were no visible wounds, and however long the butchers at Cassandra had kept him, he couldn’t have been confined in that damn coffin for too long. His once black hair, now heavily speckled with silver, was long overdue a trim and his clothes had seen better days, but what flesh Ingram could see indicated minimal muscle atrophy.

‘I… Just Kaal,’ he replied, lifting himself into a sitting position.

‘Kaal,’ Ingram agreed with a nod. ‘My name is Major Aisha Toscano. I’m with the MIS. And I’m here to take you and all the other Leeches away.’

‘Take us? Where?’

‘Home,’ Ingram said. ‘All of you.’

‘How?’ The man looked rapidly to his left, towards the staircase, and then right along the corridor. ‘The guards will be here in a minute. We can’t!’ He jumped up in a rush. His body automatically adopted a combat stance, ready to fight the foes he expected to swarm the place, but then his resolve faltered and he made a dash for his cell.

‘No!’ Ingram kicked the door shut before he could get in. ‘No,’ she repeated more calmly.

‘Aisha, we can read his BCC. Life signs are strong and steady, but his brain chemicals are fluctuating. There are heavy amounts of drugs in his bloodstream. Nano-hells would be my first guess, but they’re partially metabolised so it is just guesswork without proper analysis. He’s confused. He needs clear directions.’

‘Roger,’ Ingram replied calmly, although she felt nothing of the sort.

Kaal tilted his head, his confusion deepening. He could only hear her reply and nothing of what Gonzalez told her through her earpiece.

‘Sergeant Kaal, you can consider yourself reinstated into active service,’ she declared. ‘I need your help. Do you know where we are?’

‘Yes and no, ma’am,’ the man replied instantly. Definitely mind-altering agents; he was too malleable for anything else. ‘We are somewhere in the mountains in one of Cassandra’s research facilities. Deep underground, level minus twelve.’

‘All right.’ Ingram nodded encouragingly. This was good. His higher brain functions were still going.

Quickly, she sketched out the situation. She really wanted to ask if he could help, but decided to appeal to what the man understood best on a subconscious level—clear orders. There was no way to find out what effects the chemical cocktail was having on his physical and mental health without a Medibot, but like all drugs used by the Elite on Leeches it must have been laced with compounds that made him submissive and willing to follow directions. But in his state, he would need nano-crystal–clear directions. One step at a time.

‘I need to organise an orderly evacuation. I need three or four people with the capacity to help. Do you know personally anyone Cassandra is holding captive? Any other ex-soldiers?’

‘Yes, Major.’ Kaal nodded. He had been nodding as Ingram explained the situation, and his eyes sparkled not only with full understanding of what was going on but also with a deep desire to act. Instinctively, he was formulating solutions for the obstacles she explained. ‘Ferreira and Al-Qadir.’ With his foot he indicated doors E5 and E6. ‘They served with me and they are at least as solid mentally and physically as I am right now. Wallace’—his foot turned towards E2—‘won’t be of much help. He… he could do with a long stint in a proper hospital and some sessions with a mind healer. There are a few more like us, but I don’t know their names. We weren’t allowed to talk to each other.’

‘Okay, good. I’ll open E5 and E6. I want you to explain the situation to Ferreira and Al-Qadir fast while I try to access the visual records so that you can identify others who can help.’ She

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