Feb. 18th, 2014
The din caused by it would at least offer some cover for the man dressed in a green uniform and wearing a black beret as he crept down a long corridor filled with heavy wooden doors. He reached for a ring of antiquated keys conveniently hung on a nail beside the one of them.
That was a rarity, not having to search for keys or burn open a lock and he put it to just being part of his famous luck.
After trying the keys one by one, the cell door opened with slightly ominous moan and he quickly stepped inside, hoping his good fortune would was still intact.
It was dark inside, and as the lightning flashed again, followed by a long low rumble, he as able to discern a figure lying huddled in the lower portion of a crudely constructed bunk bed.
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Illya and Napoleon stood in front of the door and stared at it. It was only five feet tall and near the top of it to the left hung a large key ring with four keys on it. The Russian turned to look curiously at his partner. “Why are we here?” he asked.
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