Chapter 201 A Trap Door
Mark’s POV
The hallways were tight, dimly lit by the moon spilling through shattered windows. Our boots echoed softly, each step we took was deliberate. Kevan’s team had already moved ahead, handling the first major push, and now it was our turn. Darien and Lucian kept close, coordinating quietly through earpieces, and our warriors followed in a tight formation.
“Clear the east wing,” I murmured, signaling two of our men forward. “Sweep all of the corners, check every room. Don’t assume anything.” I ordered as we continued moving forward.
The first few rooms had been abandoned. His warriors either taken out or pulled back deeper. I've noticed quite a few scatter earlier so they are here somewhere. A broken chair, a tipped-over table, and faint blood streaks were the only evidence someone had been here. Yet we couldn’t relax. Clarence’s planning was perfectly thought out. He literally planned everything so perfectly. He had to of rigged this place after the minefield incident yesterday. He already knew there might be a chance we came to him. He thought that far ahead. Damn he's smart.
"Feels way to quiet,” one of the warriors muttered as we headed down the hallway.
“I agree with that. Way too fucking quiet,” I replied, eyes scanning every doorway. “That’s when we usually get hit.”
And hit we did. A small group of warriors tried to attack us from a side hall. They fired wildly at us. We returned the fire, the shots precise and controlled. One of Benjamin's baby bombs was tossed by Lucian that sent two of them flying. While the others were disoriented, I finished the rest with clean shots right to their heads.
“Casualty free,” I reported quietly over comm, smirking slightly. “Thanks for the warm-up, boys.”
Darien chuckled softly. “Don’t get cocky. Clarence’s fun begins deeper in. He has this place rigged like a damn haunted house. But instead of things pop out and just scare you, they try to kill you." He laughed even harder.
We pressed on, systematically clearing each room. A faint scuff on the floor here, a moved chair there. Little subtle signs of hurried retreat. It was clear Clarence had been careful to leave delays behind him, slowing anyone trying to follow too quickly. You can tell he was trying to buy himself time to escape. That's exactly what this is about.
One corridor revealed a small tripwire stretched too high to see immediately. I stopped, signaling the warriors back, and crouched to disarm it.
"Looks like he’s been thinking ahead,” Darien muttered.
"Noted,” I replied, stepping over it. “He’s buying himself time. Clever, but not clever enough.”
Hours seemed to pass as we carefully swept the compound. Smoke from Benjamin’s charges drifted faintly through broken windows, adding to the gloomy atmosphere. Every corner we cleared, every hallway we secured, told the same story. That Clarence and his men had planned the escape well. Right down to every single detail. They had a contingency plan in place.
Finally, at the farthest corner of the compound, I spotted it. Well I be damned. It's a trap door. It's partially concealed beneath a thick layer of trash, papers, and scuffed furniture. I crouched, brushing the debris aside.
“Kevan,” I whispered into the comm. “You need to come and check this shit out.”
There were footprints leading to it. Very large footprints. But there wasn't just one set. No. There's atleast another person. They stopped at the trap door. No one had come back. The metal latch had been moved recently. Someone had used it and now Clarence and his remaining men were gone.
Darien exhaled sharply. “Too late. He planned this. He slowed us down with the traps to give himself time.”
I shook my head, frustration rising but controlled. “Damn it. He’s out. But we know the path now. He can’t stay gone forever.”
Lucian stepped closer, smirking despite the tension. “Well, at least he left us a souvenir. And a good chase.”
I smiled faintly, though my jaw was tight. “Yeah. Next time, he won’t be that lucky.”
We surveyed the room, noting every piece of evidence the scuffed floors, subtle dust trails, and the trap door itself. It was all Clarence’s doing. He put it there carefully, strategically, and frustratingly clever. But it also told us exactly what kind of man we were dealing with.
“Let’s finish clearing the rest of the wing,” I said finally. “Nothing left behind. He might be gone, but we still own this compound.”
And with that, we moved forward, systematically clearing every room, every corridor. Clarence had delayed us, but eventually he will show up.
We cleared the entire place. The only people left alive was women and children. We are having them moved to a different location and then we will be torching this building. It's already rigged to blow.