Lars had parked the car at a great distance from the red point marked on the map. He remained there for several minutes, watching in silence.
The compound loomed in the distance: a vast structure, completely enclosed, surrounded by tall concrete walls that revealed absolutely nothing of what lay inside. There were no visible lights from the outside, no clear signs of activity, yet the feeling of surveillance was undeniable.
He decided not to get any closer with the vehicle. He drove slowly into the forest and left the car hidden among the trees, far enough away that no one would notice it.
Before getting out, he took the cloak and the clown mask. He put them on with mechanical movements, almost ritualistic. Then he took out the knife and the pistol, fastening them firmly to his belt.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, the silence of the forest closed in around him.
One of the concrete walls ran right along the edge of the woods, as if the compound had been deliberately built to blend into its surroundings. Lars moved between the trees, measuring every step, avoiding dry branches and loose leaves.
Then he heard them.
Voices.
He stopped cold.
At least two people were talking nearby. Lars immediately crouched down, holding his breath. Between the trunks, he caught sight of armed silhouettes moving naturally, like people who knew the terrain well.
Guards… he thought.
He waited.
He did not move an inch until the voices faded and the sound of their footsteps disappeared into the forest. Only then did he resume moving forward, more alert than before.
At last, he reached the wall.
It was taller than he had expected—nearly three meters of smooth concrete, with no obvious access points. Lars looked up and spotted a tree growing right beside the wall. Without hesitation, he began to climb.
When he reached the top, he stopped before crossing over.
He observed.
Inside the compound, a man was making rounds with a flashlight, its beam cutting steadily through the darkness. Closer to the main entrance, another guard stood still, alert, clearly assigned to watch the access point.
Lars remained motionless, memorizing every movement.
He hadn't entered yet.
And he already knew that this place was more than just a point marked on a map.
Lars hoisted himself onto the wall and looked down. Directly below him was a small building with a flat roof. He calculated the distance and jumped, landing silently on the rooftop. The impact was controlled, precise.
He was inside.
He knew he had to be extremely careful. One small mistake would be enough to alert the entire compound.
From his position, he could observe the area better. Within the perimeter were two more houses identical to the first, arranged in an orderly fashion. At the far end, separated from the rest, stood a larger, single-story building with multiple windows along the front. It was clearly the main structure.
Lars remained still, waiting.
The man patrolling with the flashlight slowly moved away, heading toward the entrance where the other guard was stationed. When the two of them were together, Lars slid down from the roof and touched the ground softly.
Darkness ruled the place. The only light came from the moon and a powerful floodlight near the main entrance, whose reach barely grazed the interior of the compound.
Without wasting time, Lars approached the nearest house and opened the door. It wasn't locked. He went inside.
He searched the interior quickly and precisely, alert to any sound. He found nothing relevant—no documents, no signs of important activity. He left immediately.
He looked again toward the entrance. The man with the flashlight was still talking to the other guard.
He took advantage of it.
He moved toward the house directly across from him. He stopped at the door. This one was locked. He crouched and looked through one of the windows.
What he saw made him tense.
Bunk beds.
Several of them.
And men sleeping in them.
They didn't move. The place looked like a rest area for guards or workers within the compound.
He carefully pulled back and moved to the next house. He repeated the process, peering through the window.
The same thing.
Rows of bunk beds and men sleeping deeply.
What Lars didn't notice was that inside that second house, one of the men had opened his eyes. From his bed, he saw Lars briefly appear at the window before disappearing from view.
Lars was already heading toward the large building.
Unlike the others, several lights were on inside. The main door was closed. He stopped near the entrance, sharpening his hearing.
He heard voices.
Muted conversations, constant but low.
Then, footsteps.
Someone was approaching from inside. Lars pressed himself against the wall, holding his breath.
The door swung open and a man hurried out, speaking on the phone. He didn't look around. He didn't stop. He walked straight ahead, absorbed in the call.
The door didn't fully close.
Lars didn't hesitate.
He slipped inside just before it shut completely.
The front part of the building was made almost entirely of windows, running alongside a long, narrow hallway. To the right, everything was submerged in darkness. To the left, the hallway lights were on, and at the far end, light spilled out from another room.
In the center of the hallway stood a door.
Lars approached and tried to open it carefully.
It didn't budge.
It was locked.
And for the first time since entering the compound, Lars felt that every second was now working against him.
Unable to open the central door, Lars instinctively crouched and moved toward the lit end of the hallway. Every step was measured, silent. He reached the corner and barely peeked around it.
The room beyond was lit.
Inside were two women, dressed in clothing similar to doctors'. One of them was carefully placing something into a blue storage container. When she finished, she closed the lid and set it next to three other identical boxes lined up against the wall. The other woman slowly removed her gloves while reviewing a sheet of paper.
"When will the next extraction be?" she asked, without looking up.
The woman with the box replied calmly,"They told me they need one more. They'll let us know tomorrow. Our shift is over."
The word extraction made Lars's stomach tighten.
He studied the room carefully. There was another door inside it. Everything about the scene gave him a bad feeling, a silent certainty that he was standing in a place where nothing humane should exist.
He didn't stay any longer.
He carefully backed away and crossed the hallway toward the opposite side, where everything lay in darkness. He reached the other corner and found another room. Unlike the previous one, this one was completely dark.
He entered.
It had a similar layout. Stretchers, metal furniture… and another door at the back. This one wasn't simply closed—it was secured with a thick chain and a padlock.
Before he could get closer, Lars heard voices.
The two women.
They were now moving through the hallway.
Lars retreated to the corner and watched. He saw them reach the entrance of the building, now dressed in civilian clothes. They didn't seem rushed. They spoke a little longer, then left.
When the main door closed, the interior was plunged into complete darkness.
The hallway barely received moonlight through the windows.
Lars waited a few more seconds.
Silence.
He took out his phone and turned on the flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness as he walked straight toward the chained door.
A normal man wouldn't have been able to open that padlock.
But Lars was no longer a normal man.
He grabbed the chain with both hands and, without visible effort, snapped it. The metal gave way with a dry crack. He removed the broken lock and opened the door.
Behind it was a narrow corridor.
And further ahead, a staircase descending downward.
Lars closed the door behind him.
Then he began to descend.
Each step took him farther away from the surface…
Lars reached the bottom of the stairs.
Beyond them stretched a long, narrow hallway. He paused for a few seconds before moving forward. He knew that whatever awaited him down there wouldn't be good… but even so, he wasn't prepared.
The ceiling was lined with dim lights placed at irregular intervals. Some flickered; others barely illuminated enough to make out shapes. On both sides of the hallway were thick, rusted bars—identical to those of a prison.
Even with the phone's flashlight on, the darkness seemed to devour the place.
Lars took a couple of steps forward and aimed the light at the first cell.
The air froze in his lungs.
Inside were three children.
They were chained to the wall, sitting on the floor, too close together, too still. Their ages were similar to that of the minister's son he had rescued hours earlier. Their expressions were not.
There was no confusion in their eyes.
There was fear.
A metallic noise echoed further down the corridor.
Lars slowly turned and aimed the light at another cell.
More children.
He moved forward, then took another step. Every time he directed the light toward a set of bars, more small faces appeared—some shrinking back instinctively, others staring at him with empty eyes. None of them spoke.
They couldn't.
All of their mouths were sealed with tape.
Some flinched at the sight of the clown mask. Others simply closed their eyes, as if they no longer expected anything.
Lars kept walking.
The last cells were the worst.
Children in clear states of malnutrition—bodies far too thin, skin stretched tight over bone, lifeless gazes. Some barely moved. Others trembled.
Lars couldn't take it anymore.
His breathing became erratic, rapid. The mask began to suffocate him. He tore it off his face and let it fall to the floor without care. He bent forward, hands on his knees, gasping for air.
"No…" he murmured, barely audible.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Then he heard footsteps.
They weren't his.
Lars froze completely. The sound drew closer—firm, steady, echoing through the corridor. He straightened abruptly, pulled out his pistol, and aimed into the darkness.
A man appeared in front of him.