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As I was heading up the stairs, Malachi and September joined me, and soon enough Tisiah and Nikki came from the right.

We entered the room, immediately catching Mr. Drails’s attention.

“You know, you could’ve knocked,” he said. “Oh well, come in.”

We sat down, as he laid back, taking off his glasses. “Alright, what’s the problem?” he asked, scanning all of us.

“Not much of a problem, but more of a solution,” Malachi said with a chuckle, which Mr. Drails leaned in now with interest. “Solution?”

“We found a way to put a tracker on Luthor Bane, which will require someone that is kind of in prison,” I said. “Not that we’re doing a prison break.”

“What–what…what?” Mr. Drails asked, shaking his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Dr. Mord,” September finally finished. We all nodded, as if we were dominoes falling after each other.

.....

“You want me to release him? For what?” he asked, his eyes squinted in more confusion.

“We want him to set up a meeting with Luthor Bane, as Tisiah showed you a picture a few months before Dr. Mord created the virus.”

“You want to create a meeting that’s fake, so that you could put the tracker on him. How?” Mr. Drails asked, his eyes widened.

“Well, we first need to set up the meeting and find Luthor Bane. Then we follow him enough to where he doesn’t expose us. Then we make a distraction, and then knock him down, put the tracker on, then shoot him with a dart gun so that he doesn’t remember that recent turn of events,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Well, sheesh,” he said, chuckling nervously. “It’s an interesting idea, no doubt about that.”

“So, what should we do, or actually, when should we do it?” Nikki asked.

“Now.”

“Whoa,” Tisiah said with widened eyes, laying back rapidly after the abrupt comment. Mr. Drails nodded, organizing his papers. “Yep, get ready, I will teleport you guys there once you guys are done.”

“Okay…” I muttered.

“Go, go!” he said, motioning us out the door. We exited, and I found myself a bit dumbfounded. Now? We just got here! He really wants us to find this virus quick and fast. And we aren’t even catching the man holding the virus, we’re just tracking the man that’s going to lead us to him.

We went into the barracks, as September sighed. “Didn’t want to see Dr. Mord again,” she said, opening her locker.

“I certainly don’t,” I said, taking deep breaths to calm myself. “I still have trauma because of him, but mostly Rocke.”

“You have trauma, I cry every night because he and his dumb BMO spies kidnapped me, and chained me. They lowered the oxygen considerably to the point it was like lifting weights just to breathe,” Nikki said.

“Good point,” I said.

“It was a miracle you saved me,” she said, smiling at me and touching my arms.

“And we’re still gonna have to meet him nonetheless, because we have a virus to go after,” September said. “Let’s go.”

We walked out of the barracks, heading up the stairs and back into the briefing room. It probably took ten minutes, being that he looked deeply invested into his papers.

“You guys ready?” he asked, not looking at us.

“Yes, sir,” we all said in unison. Mr. Drails nodded, reaching for his wand, before he moved it in a circular motion. It opened under us, dropping us not onto the ground–no–but in the water!

Not really in the water, we dropped into a boat, like this big boat that was more like a cargo ship and in fact, probably was a cargo ship.

“Whoa…” Malachi muttered, grunting as he rose to his feet. The sky was foggy, as if the stratosphere was only just gray clouds and rain. The water was clear–well, more gray than clear. It smelled like rain and fish, and the climate was freezing cold.

It felt like Antarctica, although the place looked more humid than dry. “Is this Alaska?” September asked. “Alaska is kind of wylin’.”

“Tell me about it,” Tisiah said.

He looked ahead, and his mouth opened with shock, as a big huge figure of a prison revealed through the silver clouds.

It had to be ninety feet tall, because that thing soared through the sky. I couldn’t even calculate how wide it was, because of the sections of buildings beside and behind and in front of one another. It was a giant, ugly prison, made of metal, and it was easily over a thousand feet wide.

There was a square building, which was probably the guard tower. It was not a small thing, but it was smaller than the prison.

There were two other buildings besides the main one, one to the right and one to the left.

Then the boat stopped, and the door ahead that led to the inside of the ship opened, in which a YMPA sailor took a glance at us. He didn’t say anything, we were YMPA agents, so thank goodness. “Alright, let’s get inside the prison, and then find Dr. Mord,” September suggested.

“How do you know where he is?” I asked.

“We’ve got people who are very good at getting information from people,” September said, smirking. “It’s not hard to find out.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not get in a fight with anyone,” Malachi said, looking around. “Or start a prison break by any chance.”

“No, we’re not breaking anyone out. That’s not our job. We’re just going to get the information that we need to find this Matthew Lock guy, and then we’ll go home,” September said, rubbing the top of her head. She turned to the side, and saw a ladder, which was there for some reason. It was descending down to the gray sand, in which she took a deep breath. “Alright guys, follow me,” she said. She dropped down the ladder, landing on the sand that was in front of the prison. “This way.”

“Wow,” Tisiah said, sliding off the boat and following September. “You can do this, right?”

“Of course I can!” she said, jogging towards the gate of the prison. The guard shot a look at me, in which I spread my jacket, showing my yellow utility belt. He nodded. “Oh, well, I guess we’ll go in, then,” she said, opening the door. “What are you doing? Hurry up, the door is open.”

I was standing in front of the door, but I didn’t move. I was frozen, but I wasn’t frozen. I just wanted to make sure that I was prepared. I entered, and the rest followed after me and September. We entered inside, and we were led to a large hall of a cafeteria. Tables were scattered through the floor, and there were two people in the room.

The first person was a guard, a middle-aged man, who had a mustache, a bald head, a dark green uniform and a gun on his hip. He had a yellow utility belt, which if you didn’t catch it the first time, shows you’re a YMPA agent. The other person was a woman, who was a red-head with freckles across her nose and cheeks.

She wore a brown coat, and her hair was tied up in a ponytail, as she was looking at me with a confused expression. She seemed like a person to approach, instead of that guy that seemed like he was going to beat me up with his baton and roll me into a burrito.

The woman stood up from the table, and I noticed a scar on her left shoulder. She was dressed in a white shirt with a blue tie, and her jeans were blue. Her name tag said Jennifer, though I don’t know what her last name is.

“I’m going to need you to step away from the table,” the woman said, pointing her finger at me. “I don’t want you to make me break your face. I mean, I would, but I don’t want to. So just stay back and let me talk to them.”

“What’s going on here? What are you guys doing in my facility?” the man said, his eyes widened.

“Well, we are just, you know, doing our job,” September said, as she placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “We need to talk to someone, specifically. Dr. Jacob Mord. He was transported here as a prisoner, and not actually killed for some reason.”

“That’s a lot to take in,” the man said. “Are you guys telling the truth?”

“Yeah, we are. Just let us talk to him,” September said, as she rolled her eyes. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time. If he was moved, then he might have been moved to the cells. Now, I’m going to need you to open up the cell block and then call Dr. Mord out. We need to ask him a few questions.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” the guard said, shaking his head.

“We have orders from Mr—or in your case—Captain Drails to do so. Don’t start this nonsense with me,” September said, her eyes striking at the man’s soul. His eyes trembled, and he leaned back a bit, startled and unsure of what to do, only then to listen to her demands.

He moved to the other side of the room, and he opened a door, leading to a staircase. Then he stepped back, and I saw a hallway with several doors.

September walked to the other end of the room, and we followed behind her. She opened a door, and there was a single man with glasses sitting at a desk. He had a skull ring, and he had white hair just flowed, or more roughed, down to his shoulders. He had not cut his hair since he was captured.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Mord,” he said, smiling. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, you can,” September said, smirking. He recognized her face, then immediately leaned to see mine, and all of a sudden, hate rejoined him. “You,” he said, looking straight at me with a fire in his eyes that already burned me into ash.