“It wasn’t that bad,” Frollo protested cheerfully. “If you and Duncan had just worked with me, we would have been out in no time.”
“Tunnels under Haagsfall?” Hallie asked, glad that her voice sounded almost normal, and grateful to Frollo for distracting her.
“The Conclave HQ is built where the old fortress used to be. It’s huge,” Frollo said, “and the original builders had all these tunnels underneath.”
“We spent a summer trying to map them all,” the director added. Hallie was pressed into one corner of the lift between Girard and Rhodda and couldn’t see the director’s face but she imagined a rueful expression. “The Conclave wanted to make sure that they were sealed up.”
“I am glad that happened before I joined,” Girard said, grinning. “Although I wouldn’t have minded seeing Frollo stuck in a tunnel.”
“Give it time,” Bray said, laughter still in his voice. “Frollo has never met a stupid idea he hasn’t wanted to try.”
Far from being offended, Frollo just grinned. Hallie saw his helmet tilt up as if he was looking overhead. “Hey, I wonder if it would be possible to climb up the shaft here?”
“No,” the director said firmly, before anyone else could speak. “You are not to try it. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” Frollo said, sounding genuinely disappointed.
Then there was a soft jolt and the movement of the lift stopped. Rhodda, who was in charge of the lift controls, opened the door a crack, which was as much as she could manage. Frollo, who had been last in, pushed the door open and headed out, Bray on his heels, all humour gone, both of them alert and intent, weapons raised and ready. Frollo had sent a message to the commander before they’d got in the lift letting them know where they were going, and reported back that the commander was planning to send a few people down the stairs to make sure there were no stragglers hiding there.
The director held a hand up before Hallie could burst out of the lift, asking for them all to stay put while Frollo and Bray inspected their surroundings. At some unseen signal, Peredur nodded and led the way out of the lift cage.
Following the others out into the cave, Hallie paused to draw a deep, relieved breath, and decided she would almost rather climb up the stairs than go through another lift journey like that.
“Nobody here,” Frollo reported, sounding disappointed. “Looks like they left in a hurry. Lots of crates around.”
Looking along the dock, Hallie saw a couple of crates apparently abandoned near where the blue-gray vessel had been docked. On the other side, the trawler was still there.
Frollo and Bray moved forward, heading along the dock.
“Careful. Findo or Jonah might have left more traps,” Hallie warned.
“Copy that,” Frollo answered, not looking back. He and Bray shouldered their weapons and instead drew out what looked like large mobile phones but which Hallie assumed were devices that might help them detect traps or explosives.
Trying to distract herself, Hallie took another look around. She didn’t think much had changed, apart from the departure of the boat, since she had been there. Her eyes fell on the small wooden hut she’d seen earlier.
“Rhodda, what’s that used for?” she asked, pointing.
“I’ve never been in. Special storage, Jonah said,” Rhodda answered.
“I thought it was strange earlier,” Hallie told Girard and the director. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Not at all,” the director said, moving with her as she crossed the stone floor to the hut. He and Girard had drawn their weapons again, Hallie noted. Still anticipating trouble, even if Frollo and Bray had given the all clear.
Approaching the hut, Hallie realised it wasn’t actually all that small. It was in fact perhaps the size of the helicopter body, but looked modest when set against the expanse of the cave wall. The walls were made of thick planks of wood, held together with metal rivets, with a small window covered in metal bars, and more metal across the door. There was a heavy padlock on the door, but it was unlocked. Hallie lifted it off the latch and pulled the door open, eyes straining to see inside.
Girard came to stand beside her, turning his pocket torch on with a low, wide beam and shining the light through the inside of the hut. He drew in a sharp breath, making a low sound under his breath.
Hallie didn’t blame him. The inside of the hut was not at all what she expected. There were cages there. Not made of wood, like the cage where the Reunion children had been kept, but sturdy metal structures with locks on the doors. Four cages across the back wall of the hut, the doors standing open, ready for more occupants.
“Special storage, indeed,” Hallie said, the words thick and foul on her tongue. “Those cages look strong enough to holdveondken, not humans.”
The director made a low sound of agreement. He had his own torch and panned the light around the room. There was nothing in the hut apart from the metal cages. “It’s a shame Simmons is dead. I have more than a few questions for him.”
“Perhaps Captain Gould is having better luck with the paperwork in the office,” Hallie suggested. She took a step back from the hut, feeling sick at the thought of the people who might have been kept prisoner in the cages. Brought here from somewhere else, and moved on to yet another place, she speculated.
“I didn’t know,” Rhodda said, her face pinched, whites of her eyes showing as she turned to Hallie. “We didn’t know. I mean, we knew Jonah was up to something up here, of course we did. But this. This is awful. Please believe me that we didn’t know.”
“I believe you,” Hallie said. The truth of it was almost visible around Rhodda. “At least, I believe that you and the other Reunion settlers had no idea. I’m not so sure about Nicholas Rigg.”
