Chapter 20

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The cell slash luxurious suite was exactly how Zane remembered it. Plush carpet, soft sofas, kitchen worthy of a chef. It all looked the same except for two major differences. One, the security cameras were shut off, their red blinking lights extinguished, their faces turned downward, staring at the floor. Two, the large reinforced door was swung wide open. The scuffed boot marks in and out were evidence of the coming and goings of soldiers, perhaps even Wawrzynski.

Zane heaved himself up through the metal panel last, his one remaining arm struggling to haul his weight up. Upon several failed attempts, Joseph lent a helping hand.

Zane collapsed on the familiar floor, his chest heaving and his left sleeve hanging limply. Joseph's hands became metal and he eased the panel back into place, leaving a small gap in one corner. He pointed to Zane. "Call your arm back," he ordered.

Zane, grateful to regain all his motor functions, obeyed, and he felt the steel barricade in the tunnel below explode into shimmering shards. He exhaled as the cells streamed through the small gap and began to knit themselves back together, reforming into his arm from his shoulder down to his fingertips.

Marcus had regained consciousness but had not spoken a word, and his gaze remained riveted to the ground. He knew Mallory had told everybody about his time as Wawrzynski's guinea pig and what had sparked his vicious rage of bloodlust. He seemed deeply disappointed in himself.

He pulled a Daisy and fell asleep.

When Zane's arm reformed, Joseph bent the corner of the panel shut. "I know I probably should have asked this before," he said, bemused. "But how are we supposed to get to Japan? Last time I checked, it was across the entire ocean." He offered his hand to Zane.

Zane grasped it and pulled himself up. He shook out his left arm. "Don't you think a city anticipating an attack would have some sort of evacuation method arranged, or an offensive strategy planned out?" he asked rhetorically. "I'd assume both these measures included some sort of air transport."

Joseph chuckled. "Who do you expect can fly a plane?"

Zane scoffed and swatted him. "If need be, we hijack a pilot," he said. "In case you haven't noticed, I can be persuasive."

Joseph sighed, rolling his eyes. "You sure can be," he responded, smiling. "I know that firsthand."

Anastasia whistled and raised her eyebrow, something Zane had come to recognize from Daisy. She leaned over toward her sister and said in a voice loud enough to ensure everyone could hear, "Jesus, the sexual tension between those two is insane." If possible, her eyebrow raised even higher. Daisy mimicked her.

Mallory chuckled and Zane scoffed. Joseph rolled his eyes and Marcus snored.

The room was exactly how Zane had remembered it, rows upon rows of deadly and lethal weapons lined upon racks, demanding to be utilized. The wrestling mats had been rolled to the side, but it was the only discernible difference and Zane's stomach twisted at the intense familiarity. The soldier he'd killed had been removed, and there was a faint pink stain where he had lain. Zane winced and he felt he could smell the tangy blood he'd spilled.

Zane followed the others into the central chamber, Joseph dragging Marcus's limp body across the floor. Anastasia gaped at the size of the room and remarked at the difference between her small cell and their royal prison.

"We should restock food," Zane said. In the few days in the tunnel, they had struggled to ration their food and were almost out.

"And weapons," Daisy added, looking wistfully toward the weapon room.

"If you say so,"

"I do,"

Daisy and her twin sister strode off with Mallory toward the door that had not always been there. Zane decided it was intentional on Daisy's part, to leave him and Joseph completely alone aside from their mouth-breathing cowboy on the floor.

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