Chapter 18 - The Forgotten Warehouse
Using landmarks shown on the old map, investigators began reconstructing the city's appearance from more than three decades earlier.
Historic planning records.
Archived aerial photographs.
Demolished railway lines.
One forgotten industrial district repeatedly matched the geometry surrounding Location Seven.
By sunset, Elena, Samuel, Harold, and a small investigative team stood outside an abandoned brick warehouse surrounded by overgrown vegetation.
Rust covered the gates.
Broken windows reflected the fading sunlight.
No recent business activity appeared anywhere nearby.
"It doesn't look occupied," one officer whispered.
Harold studied the building for a long moment.
"It wasn't abandoned when I was last here."
"When was that?"
"Thirty-one years ago."
Samuel looked at him.
"You never came back?"
"There was no reason."
Elena requested a structural inspection before anyone entered.
While engineers checked the building, another officer searched the exterior.
A fresh tire track crossed the muddy entrance.
Not days old.
Hours.
Someone had visited recently.
The discovery prompted the entire team to proceed more cautiously.
Inside, dust coated nearly every surface.
Yet a narrow path cut through the debris toward the rear of the warehouse.
"It has been used," Elena observed.
They followed the trail until Harold suddenly stopped.
"There."
Hidden behind collapsed shelving stood a reinforced steel door unlike anything else in the building.
No handle.
No visible lock.
Only a small circular indentation at chest height.
Samuel stared at it.
"I remember this."
Elena examined the indentation.
"It doesn't appear to use a conventional key."
Harold slowly reached into his coat pocket.
He removed the silver emblem recovered after the assault.
Without saying a word, he held it beside the circular recess.
The size matched perfectly.
Before anyone decided whether inserting the emblem was wise, a distant metallic sound echoed somewhere deep beneath the warehouse floor.
Everyone froze.
The sound came again.
Not machinery.
Not settling concrete.
It sounded unmistakably like a heavy door slowly closing somewhere underground.
No one in the group had gone below the warehouse.
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Which meant...
Someone else already had.
