“Is this place even legal?" Jack asked, staring up at the rusted sign: *Hargrave Logistics Hub – Decommissioned.*
Vesper slipped a bobby pin into the lock. “Define legal."
He looked around. Cornfields. Broken cameras. No cell signal.
“I hate how good you are at this."
She popped the door open. “You'll miss it when I'm gone."
Inside, the air reeked of rust and antiseptic. Rows of freezers hummed quietly under emergency power.
Jack pulled on gloves. “You said they stashed evidence here?"
“Biological backups. Tissue samples. Lab logs they couldn't risk transmitting."
He opened the first drawer.
A human hand floated in fluid, tagged *Test B-14: Noncompliant Male. Terminated.*
He exhaled. “What exactly were you people making?"
“Obedience."
Jack opened a second drawer. “This isn't re
