“Come out!” Moose yelled.
No answer. One second. Two seconds.
“Last chance, come out!” Nothing.
More eye talk. Moose stowed his grenade.
Without further hesitation, they went in, Moose first. He had the left side wall. Snap: he took a mental picture of the inside of the structure, hoping to instantaneously detect any suspicious object or person. His eyes blazed. Nothing. Too dark. Keep moving. By then Moose had lunged across most of the width of the kiln. His eyes swept the walls and the ceiling. Cuebas did the same with the other side and the floor. Clear. Nothing on the walls. Nothing there. Too f*****g dark. The place was remarkably quiet, insultingly quiet. Empty? An underground passage?
“What the f**k?” Cuebas exclaimed. He went to his knees.
“What? What?” Moose asked urgently.
