Chapter 78 Basement
The team stepped inside the metallic door and spotted a staircase leading down to the basement. It was pitch dark.
"Team Epsilon, contact on first floor," Someone reported through comms. "Proceeding to lower levels."
Other teams have reached their specific destinations as well.
The response from command was immediate: "Alpha, Beta, Delta report negative contact with primary targets. Continue search. Gamma, status?" Adrian's voice sounded.
The Catskills team. That was them.
"Gamma proceeding to basement level," Daniel replied. "Heavy resistance expected."
They went down the stairs in formation, moving carefully and checking each corner before moving on. Each footstep echoed sharply against the concrete, the sounds growing fainter as they went down.
The air got colder, tingling on exposed skin and carrying the sharp, metallic smell of disinfectant mixed with something older—stale and a little sour.
Their breaths became visible in the dim, shifting light, which faded from harsh brilliance above to a faint, unsettling glow below.
The quiet hum of distant machines mixed with the faint drip of water, and every hand tightened a little more on their weapons.
At the bottom of the stairs stood a reinforced door with an electronic lock.
"Can you break it?" Eva asked the team's tech specialist.
"I think so. Let me check. Give me thirty seconds."
Twenty-three seconds later, the lock clicked open. Eva was surprised at how fast he cracked the lock.
Daniel raised his hand, signaling he was ready.
Eva nodded.
They moved through the doorway.
The basement was a maze of hallways and rooms. Some were empty, others locked. The floors and walls looked worn down, brightly lit by flickering overhead fluorescent lights.
Faint chemical smells hung in the air, mixed with something sour. Metal stretchers stood abandoned in the corners, and tangled wires hung from monitors that blinked weakly in the dim light.
As they walked, their footsteps echoed on the cold tile, bouncing off glass observation windows and the thin, rattling bars of empty holding cells.
"Looks like she uses this place for interrogations," Daniel muttered, scanning the layout. "Maybe worse."
They checked each room carefully, facing occasional resistance from guards who looked more surprised than prepared. Whatever defenses the Architect had set up, no one seemed ready for an attack like this.
After three corridors, they found what they were searching for.
A heavy door with a biometric lock stood ahead. Two guards waited outside, but the team took them out quickly and quietly before they could raise the alarm.
Eva walked up to the door, her heart pounding.
"Can you open it?"
The tech specialist looked at the lock. "This one is different from the others. More complex. I need—"
"Try this." One of the operators handed over a keycard taken from one of the downed guards.
The specialist swiped it.
The light turned green.
Eva pushed open the door.
The room beyond was small but comfortable enough. It looked like a storage room turned into temporary living quarters, with two beds, a small table, and a private bathroom visible through an open door.
On one of the beds, two children huddled together, their eyes wide with fear.
"Mommy?"
Lily's voice shook as she spoke. Ethan sat next to her, his face streaked with dried tears, his body protectively in front of his sister.
Eva dropped her weapon and ran to the children, pulling them into her arms as a deep sob escaped her.
"I'm here. I'm here, my babies. Mommy's here."
"You came." Ethan's voice was muffled against her shoulder. "I knew you'd come."
"I'll always come for you. Always." Eva leaned back a bit to look at them, gently touching their faces and arms to check for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did anyone hurt you?"
"We're okay." Lily's lower lip quivered. "The lady said you would come if we waited. She said you'd make the right choice."
Eva felt a chill run through her. "What lady, sweetheart?"
"The one with the white hair. She came to talk to us." Lily's eyes filled with fresh tears. "She said she was sorry we had to be scared, but it was important. She said you'd understand."
The Architect had talked to her children. She had looked them in the eyes and said she was sorry for scaring them.
For a moment, Eva wondered if there was more behind the words than just manipulation—some twisted sense of duty, or the hint of a warped moral code.
Was the Architect trying to justify her actions even to herself?
Eva's fear turned into something harder, colder, and more dangerous.
"Daniel." Her voice was steel. "Get them out of here. Now."
"What about you?"
"I need to finish this."
"Eva—"
"She's here. She has to be here." Eva rose to her feet, retrieving her weapon. "Get my children to safety. I'm going to find her."
Eva found the Architect in a room on the third floor. It was a study filled with books and artwork, strangely civilized compared to the rest of the place.
The Architect sat in a leather armchair, leaning back. She was watching monitors showing footage from the basement and the chaos spreading through the facility.
Her face remained calm and almost thoughtful, as if the armed woman who had just entered the study were merely a minor inconvenience.
"Eva." The Architect didn't rise. "I wondered if you'd come to me directly, or if you'd leave with the children."
"You took my children." Eva's weapon was raised, aimed at the Architect's chest. "You terrorized them. Used them as leverage."
"I did what was necessary to get your attention." The Architect's voice held no apology. "You weren't listening to reason. I needed you to understand the stakes."
"Oh, trust me, you have got all my attention. I understand you perfectly. You're a monster who threatens children to get what she wants."
"I'm not a monster, I'm a realist. I use the resources available around me to achieve my goals." The Architect finally rose, moving with careful deliberation.
"Your children were never in danger, Eva. I gave explicit orders to my guards that they would be treated well. No harm would come to them. I'm don't harm innocent children."
"You kidnapped them."
"I relocated them temporarily to a secure facility."
"Stop your bullsht. They were perfectly fine where they were. There was no need to relocate them. What you did was kidnapping. Your pathetic excuses don't work on me. Not to a mother."
The Architect looks surprised at Eva's outburst.
"You are just used to doing whatever you want, and giving it a name of justice doesn't make it right. You put my children in danger, you took them away from their mother's embrace. That's not justice, that's crime."
"If you were a mother, you would understand what you did was wrong. Do you still want to defend yourself?"
"No." Something flickered in the Architect's eyes—something that might have been understanding. "No, I suppose not."
Eva's finger tightened on the trigger.