In the utterly dark prison corridor, security personnel wearing Night Vision Goggles pushed a heavy cage forward.
The tires rolled over the smooth tile floor with a dull rumble, while chains clattered against the cage bars like intermittent wails.
There were no lights or sources of illumination in the corridor, nor were there any windows at its end. This was a completely sealed, dark space. Without night-vision equipment, no one could see anything.
The cage entered an elevator once more. There were no buttons or controls inside; everything was remotely operated.
The entire transfer was far too silent, steeped in an atmosphere of terror. Yet it was not the prisoner who felt fear, but the escorts who understood what it meant to transport a prisoner under such stringent conditions.
Silence, silence, and more silence. Nothing drowned out the elevator's rumble; it was starkly audible. The doors opened, and the escort team continued onward until they reached a special door.
There was finally a little light here. The door was highly unusual. Rather than an ordinary single door, it consisted of two panels that opened outward like a barred gate. A red indicator light hung above it, providing the faint illumination.
One half of the gate opened, and the cage was aligned with it again. The escorts repeated the same procedure. When Schiller stepped into this special room, he saw someone seated across from the long table in the center. It was William Denechet.
But Schiller's gaze did not linger on him for long. Instead, it passed over him and settled on the wall behind him.
There was nothing on the wall, but Schiller's gaze penetrated the disguised surface and landed on the group of people behind it who were observing the room.
"He sees us," Davis said.
Several rows of