The falcon darted swiftly through the narrow corridor, like a dotted line disappearing into the darkness.
His movements were so light that his footsteps barely made a sound on the rough concrete floor.
The crisscrossing pipes and cables overhead cast dappled shadows, providing him with excellent cover.
The air here is even more polluted than upstairs; the smell of engine oil, dust, and disinfectant mix together, creating an uncomfortable and oppressive atmosphere.
We must find a boss as soon as possible.
We can't waste too much time here.
Faint footsteps and whispers came from ahead.
Falcon's movements froze instantly, his body pressed tightly against the back of a thick pipe, concealing all his presence.
The shadows completely engulfed him.
Two guards dressed in Sihaitong security uniforms walked by unhurriedly, one of them complaining about something.
They were clearly less vigilant than the people at the basement entrance, but they were still carrying weapons.
We must not be careless.
Any oversight could lead to mission failure.
Falcon held his breath until the footsteps and conversations completely disappeared at the other end of the corridor.
He then slipped out from behind the pipe and continued forward.
Based on his previously memorized, incomplete architectural plans and his experience with the layout of such underground facilities, the location for imprisoning important figures was usually chosen in a relatively independent area that was easy to defend and difficult to attack.
He needs to find a path to deeper or more remote areas.
Soon, a fork in the road appeared ahead.
One corridor was relatively spacious and brightly lit. In the distance, more guards could be seen moving around, and the faint hum of equipment could be heard.
The other passage was unusually narrow and dark, with some discarded debris piled up at the entrance. Almost no light penetrated it, as if it led to a forgotten corner.
This road... is more in line with the characteristics of the hiding place.
Moreover, a faint, even stronger smell of disinfectant wafted from the dimly lit passageway.
Falcon chose the latter without hesitation.
He squeezed past the clutter at the entrance and entered the deeper passage.
There are significantly fewer surveillance cameras here, almost none.
The disinfectant smell in the air was even more pungent, mixed with an indescribable musty odor.
The passage wasn't long; after walking about ten meters, a heavy metal door appeared at the end.
The door panel was covered with scratches and rust. There was no modern electronic combination lock or fingerprint reader in sight, only an old-fashioned brass mechanical lock cylinder and an inconspicuous round observation port next to it.
This door looks quite old.
Is it an abandoned area?
It doesn't seem like it.
The smell of disinfectant was coming from under the door.
Falcon's heart skipped a beat, and he approached silently, like a cat.
He brought his eyes close to the cold observation port and cautiously peered inside.
The field of view inside the observation port is very narrow and the light is extremely dim.
It was barely discernible that it was a small room, with walls that appeared to be rough concrete and some unidentified objects piled up in the corner.
In the center of the room, there was a simple chair.
A blurry figure sat in the chair, with his back to the door.
The figure was dressed in dark casual clothes, and its silhouette... looked a lot like the boss!
Falcon's heart skipped a beat.
It's highly likely that it's Lin Fan!
He quickly looked away, pressed his ear against the cold door, and listened carefully.
There was no movement from inside the door.
There are no guards outside the gate at the moment.
But he could clearly hear regular footsteps coming from the direction of the brightly lit corridor.
Patrol team! They pass by here regularly.
Time is of the essence.
Falcon swiftly retrieved a sophisticated set of miniature lock-picking tools from inside his tactical vest.
He skillfully combines probes of various shapes and torque wrenches.
He gently inserted the tool into the old brass lock cylinder.
It has to be fast, and it can't make a sound.
The internal structure of the lock cylinder was more complex than he had expected; it seemed to be an old-fashioned anti-theft lock that had been specially reinforced.
The subtle metallic scraping sound was amplified infinitely in the silent passageway.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, but his fingers remained as steady as a rock.
Sweat must not drip; any abnormality may attract attention.
Click... Click...
The pins inside the lock cylinder were moved one by one.
Just as he felt he was about to successfully open the lock—
Tap, tap, tap...
The footsteps coming from the main corridor in the distance suddenly became clearer and were rapidly approaching the fork in the road!
The falcon stopped abruptly, its heart pounding in its throat.
He quickly retrieved his tools, pressed his body against the shadow beside the metal door like a gecko, and minimized his breathing.
Don't come any closer!
Whatever you do, don't discover this door!
The two guards walked to the fork in the road, talking in hushed tones.
Their footsteps paused briefly here.
Falcon's heart was in his throat, his muscles tense, and he was prepared for the worst.
Fortunately, they seemed to be just making a routine observation and did not find anything unusual, nor did they show any interest in the dimly lit passage.
Footsteps sounded again, gradually fading away towards the other end of the passage.
The crisis has been temporarily averted.
Falcon slowly exhaled a breath of stale air; his back was already icy cold.
He didn't dare to delay and immediately picked up the lock-picking tools again. Relying on his memory and feel, he quickly completed the last few steps.
"Click".
With a very slight click, the lock cylinder was successfully opened.
Falcon gripped the cold doorknob and, extremely slowly, inch by inch, pushed the heavy metal door open a crack.
No sound was made.
He slipped into the room with the agility of a raccoon, and at the same time gently closed the door behind him, leaving only a barely perceptible crack.
The room was indeed dimly lit, with only a small, dim lamp in the corner emitting a faint glow.
The air was filled with a strong smell of disinfectant and a faint odor of blood.
The figure sitting in the chair stiffened abruptly upon hearing the slight noise behind him, then turned around alertly.
In the dim light, a slightly pale but still well-defined face came into the falcon's view.
It's Lin Fan!
He looked very tired, his complexion was not good, his lips were a little chapped, and his eyes showed a hint of wariness and confusion.
But his mental state seems to be okay.
The huge weight that had been hanging over Falcon's heart was finally lifted.
Found it!
The boss is still safe!
Falcon quickly raised his hand and gestured for Lin Fan to be quiet.
His movements were decisive and silent.
Immediately afterwards, he lowered his voice and said quickly in a whisper that only the two of them could hear, "President Lin, Qihang Security."
Lin Fan's pupils contracted slightly, and his tense body visibly relaxed a little after recognizing the person.
The wariness in his eyes faded, replaced by an unbelievable surprise, but it was quickly suppressed by reason.
Without wasting any words, Falcon's gaze quickly swept over Lin Fan's entire body.
The clothes were relatively tidy, and there were no obvious signs of binding or serious external injuries.
He just doesn't seem to be in good spirits, like he's been sleep-restricted, or... is it the effect of medication?
We need to leave here as soon as possible.
This place is not safe to stay for long.
Falcon gestured again for Lin Fan to remain quiet and not make a sound.
He turned around and moved closer to the observation window by the door, carefully observing the situation in the corridor outside.
The patrol just passed by; it's safe for now.
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