Rex slid through the tight, rough pipe. It was pitch black and smelled like wet dirt and old metal. He kicked and pushed with his legs, moving forward like a worm. The pipe was so narrow it felt like his chest was being squeezed.
Rex was thirteen. He was sitting in Julian's fancy office, learning how to pick locks.
“The key to control, Rex,” Julian said, “is always having an exit they don't know about.”
Young Rex frowned. “But I thought you said an alley with only two ways in is a perfect trap.”
“It is,” Julian agreed, and he leaned closer. “A perfect trap for them. The truly good design always has a third, unseen exit. A pipe, A hidden wall, or A hole. When you are in a trap, the only way out is usually the smallest, dirtiest path. The one no one wants to take.”
Rex hit a curve in th
